Going Back to The One (Selection Fanfiction)
by YamiBlueberry-chan
Summary: The One with my own twist. Starts at the end of Elite, after a heart-breaking confession from Maxon and finding out Aspen gets shot, America decides to quit the Selection. The Singers are now Threes and Mer returns to her normal life when the rebels come after her and only the reconciliation of Aspen and Maxon can save her. Pairing? S-E-C-R-E-T (CHAP. 9 IS OUT!)
1. Chapter 1

_**Going Back to The One**_

**Me: Hi! First Selection Fanfiction! **

**Okay, I never told you guys the main pairing but...**

**I'm am partly on Team Aspen... AND before you Team Maxon fans throw whatever's in your hands at me,(unless it's cash), I said PARTLY! Actually, after reading **_**The Selection**_**, I was neutral and after reading **_**The Elite**_**, I just got more confused. Maybe I **_**am **_**in Team Maxon, since I hate Kriss now and because I kind of found it sweet when Maxon let his dad whip him for America. Or maybe I'm in Team Aspen because I didn't like it when America fought with him and I really wanted them to make up and because I'm a sucker for first loves as sweet as they were and... Argh! This is so freaking annoying! But I'm still writing this story.**

**Well, because... I just want to.**

**I was always scared when the rebels attack. I'm always like, "Oh my gosh, what is happening to Aspen?" And this story popped into my mind.**

**I could make it Maxerica...**

**... OR NOT!**

**Seriously, I planned this story to have a lot of twists so don't get mad if you don't get who I'm shipping, because I don't support any of them loyally. Sometimes I like Maxon more and then sometimes I like Aspen more. But I'll give both of them equal importance.**

**Maybe...**

**Disclaimer – I do not own the Selection Trilogy nor its amazing characters, all rights go to Kiera Cass.**

**Happy Reading! **

**P.S. This will be in America's point of view.**

**P.S.S. This probably starts when Maxon and America are in a safe room while the rebels attacked for the second time. The glitch is... Maxon said he... you'll find out later.**

o-o-o

Maxon looked at me painfully as I try to get comfortable on the floor. I wiped my wet hands with what was left of my ripped dress. He just finished telling me about Celeste, Natalie and Elise and my hands still smell like fresh crimson. My nose crinkled.

"What? Is that it? What about Kriss?" I asked, feeling anxious. It took him a while before he answered. He seemed uncharacteristically fidgety. Every time I ask about Kriss, he suddenly shuts his mouth and tries to change the topic.

"Maxon?" I called his name, catching his attention.

"I'd rather not." He finally answered and I wasn't satisfied.

"And _why_ not?" I asked, stopping myself from standing up and throwing a fit.

"Can we talk about s—" He starts to protest but he stops when he see me glare into his eyes. He sighs and his eyes stayed on the floor. "F-Fine. Come here."

He motioned me to come closer and I follow, crawling to his side. He grabbed my right hand and gripped it tight. It hurt but I didn't cringe. We stare into each other's eyes and it's like I was staring at a complete stranger. Maxon's are filled with fear instead of compassion and I felt my own filling up with the same emotion.

What was he going to tell me?

He grabbed my shoulder with his free hand and stared at me like he meant business. "America," the way he said my name made it sound like it hurt. _"I'm sorry."_ He whispered those two words like he wanted to take them back even before he said it.

I forced a smile and a jokingly tone. "W-What are you possibly saying sorry for?" My stuttering gave me away.

He ducked his head and I feel my chest about to explode like a bomb. I start counting.

10... 9... 8...

"It's just that... I don't know how it was possible but..." He didn't bother continuing and I scolded him for it.

"But what, Maxon?"

"You know what? Never mind. I don't want to talk about this anymore."

He remains quiet and I jump to my feet. "What do you mean 'never mind'?! Maxon! What are you not telling me? What are you hiding? You always say things like I'm not trustworthy and I understand why you do. But how am I supposed to give my full trust to someone who hides so much from me?"

I don't know why I started throwing tantrums in front of him.

"Do you really want us to separate mad at each other?" I feel like such a hypocrite for saying these things, especially when I think about me and Aspen, but right now, I don't care. "I bet you already told Kriss everything about yourself and—"

"That's because I love her."

I froze at his words. "You w-what?"

He stands up, swaying before he finds his footing, and supports himself by pressing his palms into the wall. "I _love _her. I have learned to love her."

I'm surprised I'm not tearing up. Oh wait, of course I'm not tearing up.

I'm too mad to even _think _about crying.

I release something in between a groan and a laugh. I look at him, a fake smile forcibly plastered on my face by a monster called pride.

Pride forced me to do lots of idiotic things. Like asking a stupid question like, "Why?" I asked. _Why? _I ask myself this time. Of course he would learn to love _Kriss_. Kriss the sophisticated. Kriss the ladylike. Kriss the adored by all. Kriss the perfect princess.

Kriss the opposite of America.

_So what?_, I thought. It was obvious from the very start that I wouldn't be chosen. My heart may have been torn, but not split. It's odd why I'm not that heartbroken.

_(Did I even love Maxon? Or was it just jealousy from lust, because I wanted his kisses to be mine and mine alone?)_

What really hurt is that I actually thought the people could put their faith in me. They didn't think that a Five from Carolina could ever become a sufficient princess. I guess those who did were wrong.

Anne, Mary, Lucy, May, Mom, Dad, that Italian princess named Nicoletta... Me...

I put my hands in my hair, ready to rip them off their roots.

I... I just can't take this any—

Maxon verbally slaps me back into reality.

"You're really asking me that? While you did nothing but shut me out Kriss was always there. Ready to comfort me no matter how much I push her away and use her to make you jealous!"

And it hurts.

"Prince Maxon! Lady America! Thank God!" I see a guard open the door of the safe room. I run out the door without acknowledging him, nor Maxon. But hey, I'm already getting kicked out, why should I force myself to show them any manners?

o-o-o

My maids have never looked so relieved their entire lives until they saw me. They all wrapped their arms around me and I hugged them back, equally thankful that they're safe as well.

I wiped the tears off my eyes and I found myself laughing with Anne, Mary and Lucy. Lucy was still teary-eyed so I used my other hand to wipe her wet cheek.

I told them how the Maxon saved me from running to my doom – outside – and how he led me to one of the small safe rooms. I skipped out the other details –like our fight— and told them I was going to leave today, after a few hours. They tried to console me and I just shook my head. I told them I was fine with it.

And that was the truth.

"I'll put on something simple and leave after a few hours." I said. I didn't want them to work for me now that I've been eliminated already.

They shook their heads in denial. Anna started giving out orders. "Lucy, go to the workroom and finish up that dress. We'll come help soon. Mary, get some food."

She turned to me. "I don't care what anyone says Lady America, you're leaving in style."

Lucy and Mary nodded before curtsying and Anne proceeded to the doors. I smiled. They're so nice to me, it'll be so hard to say goodbye. A memory popped into my mind.

"Wait!" I said, stopping them in their tracks. "Speaking of goodbyes, may I speak with As—" I almost said his name out loud. "I mean, Officer Leger. He has been guarding me all this time and I wanted to bid my farewell to him as well." I wanted to cry into Aspen's arms so badly.

The three girls froze; I felt a chill run down my spine.

Anne looked at me with a worried expression, almost like she was hiding something she knows I couldn't handle.

Mary fidgeted and started playing with her fingers, rubbing her thumbs constantly. I saw sparkles of tears forming on the tips of Lucy's eyes.

"What?" I asked. My heart was pounding so loudly it feels like it was beating in my ears.

No... not again...

They remained quiet and their silence frightened me. One, because they might be suspecting that I might be a little bit too caring to Aspen than they thought and two, because something bad might've happened to him.

The latter was worse.

Anne took a deep breath and tried to remain her composure as she spoke to me. "Lady America, Officer Leger has..." She paused, taking in another breath.

I tried to resist the urge to snap from waiting. She continued before I did and I was grateful for that.

"...has been shot."

I felt my whole world crash down on my shoulders and the weight made me fall on my knees, breaking down in front of them as they caressed me. I look up and almost scream but I managed to control myself.

_Haven't I lost enough today?_

"W-Where?" I managed to say, my voice breaking.

Mary shook her head. "We were never informed."

"We were in a safe room when he was shot. When we came back here a guard told us that he was shot and he just left without telling us anything else." Lucy explained, hugging me as our tears combined into a tiny pool under our feet. I shook my head so fast I felt dizzy afterwards. "T-That wasn't what I m-meant." I finally regained my voice, even if it was strained. "I meant where _is _he?"

"The hospital wing."

I didn't bother to acknowledge the person who said that as I stood up and dashed out the door. I heard Anne's voice calling out my name, at least, I think she was. My heart was beating so fast and I was breathing so hard I couldn't quite hear anything.

I ran across the messed up hallway and made a few turns as I stepped on broken glass and wood until I saw the door to the hospital wing. When I went it, I covered my mouth to stop myself from gasping in horror. It didn't work.

So many people, injured, covered in blood, breathing hard because of the pain. Few of them weren't breathing at all.

I scanned the room of doctors and nurses trying to treat their numerous patients. Some nurses are crying as they cover the faces of the brave soldiers who fought for the Royal family, and the Elite, and innocent maids who were now resting in peace. I felt tears building up inside of me and I swallow hard.

Could Aspen be one of them?

I see a free nurse by a table, fiddling with some papers, her hand on her creased forehead. She looks stressed.

Walking up slowly to the nurse, I wipe my sweating hands with the fabric of my dress. "Uh..." I raised my finger and hesitate. Fear was slicing through me like a knife. Was I prepared for her answer?

I gulped and took out all my courage.

"Ms, may I see Officer Leger?"

She put down her papers but didn't look up. She heaved out a sigh. "I have so much stuff to do. Will you stop bothe—"

"Oh, Lady America!" She exclaimed once she looked up, suddenly embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear you. What did you say?"

I almost tripped in disbelief. Was she serious? She was going to make me ask that painful question, _again?_

"I said, 'May I see Officer Leger?'." I asked in a much more harsh tone.

She raised an eyebrow at me. She must think it was rather odd to worry about a guard when I'm one of the Elite. Thank God that she just shook that idea off and stood up.

"He's over there." She said, pointing to the left by the back of the room. "I'll take you to him." She offered. I nodded.

As we passed by the other patients, I asked her, "What happened to him?"

"After the rebels started attacking he and the other guards went to battle in the garden. The other nurses and I were there inside the castle and we could see everything through the glass as we tried to treat those who have been injured inside. When he was out there, he just kept shouting. '_Mer, where are you?'," _she looked up and tapped her chin, like she was trying to guess who 'Mer' was. Aspen must've thought I ran into the gardens and he ran there to chase me.

She continued. "One rebel had a gun surprisingly, I thought rebels couldn't afford that kind of weaponry. He shot Officer Leger twice—"

My eyes turned into saucers. "T-Twice?"

I remember Tanner and how he crippled to the floor. I shiver.

The nurse nodded. "Yes, first on the shoulder, next on his side near the stomach." I felt my own stomach hurt, like I could feel a bullet passing through it. I held it to stop the pain.

The nurse jumped in surprise. "Is something wrong? Did you get hurt during the attack as well? Should I run a check up?" I shook my head and waved my hands in denial. "No, no. It's nothing."

After a while, I spoke up again.

"Is he going to be alright?" I asked, desperately hoping she said yes.

She looked up to me and gave me a reassuring smile. "Of course. We were able to take out the bullets before he got any infections. His wounds are dried up and now all he needs to do is rest."

I managed to compose myself; I almost danced for joy.

"Not that I'm trying to pry but... Why are you so worried, Lady America?"

I knew she was going to ask that.

"Officer Leger and I were friends back in Carolina." I said without any hesitation. "He was my _only_ friend there and I don't know what I'd do if something bad happened to him." I gripped my fists to stop them from shaking. The nurse patted my shoulder as if she was saying, _I understand, _and I smiled at the gesture.

She showed me to Aspen's room and left me once I closed the door behind me. Locking it and covering the small window with the same sized gray curtain just for it. Just to be safe.

He was lying on the bed, his eyes closed. A bandage on his shoulder and the other was hidden under his uniform. Its presence was obvious because of the large bump under his clothes.

He was snoring.

I sighed and it came out in a form of a laugh. I didn't realize how worried I was until I started crying.

I slowly walked up to him, wiping my face, and knelt down. I raised my hand to run it through his hair but I froze. It's like I dream and I'm afraid that when I touch him, I'll find out he isn't real. I move my hand closer and once I feel the tips of his hair, a smile breaks down my face.

He's real.

This experience made me realize something. I never wanted to lose Aspen. If you compare my weight of worry when they said Maxon never landed in New Asia and that he could've died and my worry when I found out Aspen was shot, I realized who was more important.

I feel great.

I'm grateful Maxon fell in love with Kriss and scarred my heart.

Maybe that was why I could never bring myself to tell Maxon I love him.

Because I don't.

The pain he brought me opened my eyes and I finally saw the truth inside me.

I love Aspen, and I don't regret my choice.

Running my hand through Aspen's hair, even though it was almost shaved, made me feel so nostalgic. I lean in closer, my lips lightly touching his cheek.

"_I love you, Aspen." _I whisper in his ear. It felt so right to say that.

I see a small smile form on his lips and it makes me blush.

His eyes flutter open slowly after staring at him for a few minutes and I move back, positioning myself so my eyes are the first things he sees. He rubs his eyes and they grow bigger as they stare into mine. At first, he just lies there, taking me in, just like he always used to.

"M-Mer!" He yelled out my name as he tries to sit up. He fails and groans. I let out a small laugh. "_Ah, ah, ah._" I said as I playfully waved my finger in front of him. "Don't strain yourself." I support him as he sits beside me.

He's still looking at me with awe.

"I-Is that really you?" He asked, his hand cupping my cheek. I shake my head. "No, Aspen. I'm America's ghost, waiting to haunt you for the rest of your life." I raised my hands and moved them in a ghost-like manner, making boo sounds like a child. I felt weird for me to act like this after all the disappointments.

Well, Aspen's presence made it all better.

He laughed and wrapped me in his arms. "It _is_ you!" He exclaimed. I felt the back of my dress getting wet.

I couldn't believe it.

Aspen was crying.

"I-I thought I'd lost you." He said, gripping me tighter. I return the hug and rub the back of his head reassuringly.

"Not today Aspen. Not today."

He pushed me away at arm length and pulled me back in for a kiss. He left his wounded arm hanging by his side and I was careful not to touch his wounds. I could feel all the sadness and pain slowly disappear like it was never there. It felt so warm to be in Aspen's arms. It felt so wonderful to be loved like this.

Yes, Maxon adored me. (Note I used to past tense)

But Aspen loves me. (Note I used the present tense)

That's what was more important.

I pulled him closer, wrapping my arms around his neck and soaking in all of Aspen's love, while giving him mine. His soft touches always got me and I felt myself falling more and more into his arms. Our minds and souls joined into one as we stayed like that.

I wish we could've taken it further but we knew better.

We let go of each other at the same time. "You know," I said, my eyes watery. "I thought you were dead too." I let them fall. I wasn't ashamed of letting him know that I can cry for him. My eyesight blurry, I felt his hand dry my cheeks. "I was told that when you were out there, risking your life, you kept on shouting my name..."

Aspen tucked my red hair behind my ear. "Of course I did. I had to find you. And besides, Mer. Do you really think I'd let a few bullets stop _me?_"

"Well..." I felt a little silly, but I played along. "...Maybe a little bit."

He looked at me, acting offended. "That's mean of you." He chuckled and I laughed with him.

"I'm going home today." I finally said after I stopped laughing.

Aspen stares at me with hope flashing through his eyes. "Does this mean that you choose me?"

I could never put into words on how much I wanted him, so all I did was hug him. He got the message and kissed my forehead.

A serious look took place in his eyes. "What about Maxon?"

I shook my head. "Nothing to worry. After my scene with that diary, obviously, the king kicked me out. And even if he proposed to me this second it wouldn't change anything." I explained.

He laughed when he remembered the diary. "Mer, if you couldn't show it to me, you really shouldn't have tried to show it to the country. And the caste thing … You're crazy, you know that?"

"I know. I get that from you." I joked, clapping my hand on his shoulder. He winced. I must've touched the injured one. "Sorry." I apologized quickly, pulling my hand away. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders instead and he pulled me closer. I rested my head on his shoulder.

Aspen ducked his head and started playing with his hands. Was he _nervous_?

He opened his mouth and looked at me, his eyes telling me to be completely honest. "If you weren't leaving, would you have accepted— his proposal I mean?"

I shook my head without any hint of doubt in me. "I love _you_. And nothing in the world, not even the richest prince who could give me everything, could ever change that." I admitted, entangling my fingers in his free hand. He gave it a tight squeeze.

"I love you too, Mer."

I glanced somewhere, anywhere and let my eyes stay there. "Besides, Maxon already told me he loved Kriss now. And the funny thing is... I didn't cry. Not even a single tear. If you compare to the time you said you would break up with me, I think that that was much more painful. You almost threw away two years of us being together Aspen. Just for some crummy contest where I have to get cheated on by a shallow Blondie in a fancy suit and no one gets mad at him for doing so. Especially when they said you were shot. I thought that I was getting shot myself. I couldn't bear the thought of l-losing... y-you..." My voice breaks and I wipe my eyes quickly and cough out a laugh.

Aspen gives me a sympathetic look and I don't blame him. If I was staring at myself right now, I would feel awfully sorry for myself.

"I'm glad though." I focus on his face this time. "I'm glad that the thought of you leaving me would pain me more than the thought of leaving Prince Maxon." I give him a small smile and my eyes smile as well.

We held each other for a few minutes like we never wanted to let go. "Don't worry," he said after a while. "I'll let your feelings cool down and once I finish one year of being a soldier, I can go home and I can court you and propose to you much more formally."

I kiss him on the cheek. "Aspen, even if you propose to me with a looped rusty wire for a ring, I'd still say yes."

"I know. But you deserve better."

"You always say that." I pointed out.

"Because it's true."

We hear a knock on the door and we freeze. Who was behind the door? Did he or she hear our whole conversation? Were Aspen and I going to be sentenced to be caned even though the king already kicked me out today?

"Officer Leger, this is the nurse. Why is the door locked? Are you awake? I'm here to check your blood pressure."

We both let out a sigh and we stare at each other, laughing quietly. I stand up, unlock the door and hurriedly hide inside the small bathroom the comes with the room; the nurse may get some... _unwanted ideas. _

I look out the tiny window of the door and I see her come in with a gadget in her hands. It was an inflatable band connected to a machine that pumps air into the band and shows your blood pressure. She left after a few minutes, scribbling something in her clipboard before curtsying and walking out.

"I'll be on my way now." I curtsied after I got out of the bathroom, giving Aspen a goofy smile. Aspen gave me an exaggerated bow and said, "Thanks for the visit, my lady."

"Anytime, my dear sir." I let out a small giggle before walking out the door.

He stands up and grabs my wrist. I look back and he gives me a look that made me feel weak in the knees. "Mer, I was wrong. I think you would've made a wonderful princess. You're kind, brave, compassionate and most importantly, you can relate well with the people of our country. You may make irrational decisions but I know that if you had some help, you would've been a much better princess than Lady Kriss."

I smile at his combination of a compliment and an insult. "Thanks Aspen." I lean into him and our lips connect. It only lasted for a few seconds but it felt so... so real. There was a new feeling in that kiss. What's it called again?

Oh yeah.

Hope.

With that I was out the door, Prince Maxon completely banned from taking a place inside my mind, skipping happily so Anne and the others can start dressing me one last time.

o-o-o

**((A/N: I'll just skip the maids' and America's final farewells and get to the part where she sees Maxon as she goes out the door.))**

"America." He said, his eyes staring at my dress. I tug it lightly. I hate to admit it, but I'm going to miss wearing dresses like these, especially if they're made by such wonderful and talented friends.

I curtsied slowly, trying to mask my anger. "I bid thee farewell, _Prince _Maxon." I almost laugh because of the formality of my greeting, which intends to make him know that I don't see him as a friend anymore, but an image of royalty whose relationship with me is nothing but a Prince-to-subject kind.

I almost want to say I hate him right now, but I don't. I don't like him, but that doesn't mean I hate him.

We stay there in silence and it was choking me.

"Oh Maxon, there you are." The friendly voice made me taste bile.

Kriss.

**((A/N: Next lines are from the last chapter of the Elite, italicized.))**

"_I didn't get to ask you earlier if we were still on for dinner tonight."_

_[Prince] Maxon looked at me as he spoke._

"_Of course. We'll eat in your room."_

"_Wonderful!"_

_That hurt._

"_America? Are you really leaving?" she asked, coming up to us. I could see the spark of hope in her eyes._

**((A/N: End of direct quotation.))**

I give Prince Maxon a little smile, a smile that I hope will taunt and haunt him for life. "Yes." I said proudly. "Yes I am."

Kriss's eyes widened at my tone. "S-Seriously?"

I nodded. "Take care of the prince. He's _all _yours." I gesture to Prince Maxon, looking for a little splash of red. True enough, there was.

I felt something pinch me in the chest as I technically handed Prince Maxon over to another girl.

_No, no America. It's just a lingering feeling. It'll disappear soon._

"Any final words before I go?" I sang playfully to get my mind of the pain.

"Yes." Kriss answered first. "Take care and have a nice flight, America. I hope your family's safe. And don't worry, I'll take care of him. Thanks for being a great friend."

I smile and envelope her around my arms. "You too. You made me realize so much." _Like how much I treasured Aspen._

We turn to Prince Maxon.

"Farewell, America Singer. I wish you a safe flight and a happy new lifestyle as a Three now. I hope your family will be able to cope up with the new changes of your lifestyle. I will have someone assist you in finding new jobs fit for a Three and there is already a new house for you and your family to live in that will be finished being built after a few weeks. Our carpenters are very quick and efficient."

**((A/N: I wanted to make her a Two but, since she **_**was **_**kicked out she should have some sort of punishment, right?))**

He turns to Kriss. "Kriss, let's just see each other later in your room. I will escort Lady America out of the palace gate."

Kriss nodded politely. "Of course. Bye America!" She said, waving at me as she walks down the hallway.

Once she's out of sight, Prince Maxon asks me, "So," He looked so serious I could have sworn he was a younger clone of his father. "You're going back to your ex?"

If it wasn't for his hurt expression, I would've thought he was joking. Guilt fills the place where my blood should be.

Pride attacks me again. The monster pulls my arms until they're crossed and he made me lift my chin up. "Actually," I can't believe I'm saying this. "I am."

He searches me for a sign that I'm lying. Too bad.

Because I'm not lying.

The palace doors open and I step outside for what feels like _for the first time in forever_, not looking back at the prince or Kriss or everything in that palace that pained me.

I hear someone punch the wall. Or maybe the palace door have closed. I look behind me and they did.

I see someone wave at me from one of the bushes by the back of one of the palace's pillars and I raise an eyebrow. I walk towards it and I see a lock of familiar hair.

"America!" The bush-girl shouts in a whispery voice. I squint and almost jump for joy.

"Marlee!" I gave her a tight hug. "You came to see me off? But how—?"

"Carter found out while he was doing the laundry. Some of the laundry women can be very... talkative."

"Oh Marlee, I missed you so much!"

"I did too. But I really have to go. I shouldn't have left the kitchen. I only have 10 minutes left before my shift. I just really wanted to see you before you left."

"Sure thing. Oh, here." I reach for my backpack and grab my lucky penny. The one Aspen gave me. I hand it to her. "I'm sorry. I know it may not seem much but that penny is one of my most beloved possessions." I gave her a warm, reminisced smile. "It reminds me of how strong my love for that special someone is."

Marlee stared at the coin and carefully buried it under her other hand. "I'll treasure it forever."

"I know you will."

My friend grabbed her hair and let it fall down her shoulders. She gave the tie to me. "I'm sorry too, but at least you have something you can remember me by."

I grabbed my hair and tied it into a bun, not wanting to ruin Lucy's braids. "Even without this I'd think about you every day. You are and always will be the greatest best friend I have ever had." I gave her a smile and she pulled me into her arms. I felt the tears fall.

Tears of true friendship.

"You too, America. I love you."

"I love you too, Marlee. I wish you and Carter the best."

"Thanks. I wish you and your special someone the best too."

We let each other go and we laughed as we wiped our tears.

I grabbed my backpack and ran back by the palace door, waiting. I tilt to the side to see if Marlee was still there. A guard holds my shoulder as I was about to walk towards the bushes again.

Aspen.

"Wow. You look amazing." He said, eyeing me in a way that makes me feel warm all over.

"Thanks. I didn't know you were the one who was supposed to escort me?"

"I switched schedules."

"Clever."

"I know."

He points to the limousine that will bring me to the airport. "Ready?"

I nod reassuringly. "As I'll ever be."

I get into the limousine and Aspen secretly kisses me quickly on the cheek, looking like he was whispering something to me. He got into the front seat with the driver and gave him the go signal.

I stare out the window and watch the palace become smaller and smaller in my line of vision. I remember when I was chosen the first day, when I met Marlee and the rest. I remember the food, the talks, the lessons by Silvia, the rebel attacks, even my time with Prince Maxon.

I stare at the blue sky and watch as my new world finally unfolds in front of me. I'm a Three now. I can have a steady and public relationship with Aspen now and I can live with my family again. We have the money now and Gerad can finally be allowed to explore the world outside arts.

This should be a happy ending right?

But... why do I feel like something's going to go terribly wrong?

o-o-o

**Me: END OF CHAPTER!**

**Finally! That was REALLY, REALLY LONG. I didn't know I could write something that long before. **

**Wait, don't kill me yet Team Maxon fans! There's still a lot more to this story. Didn't you hear America? This is not yet a happy ending. Unless you want it to be. **

**The next chapter will be a treat for you Team Maxon fans. The next chapter will be in MAXON'S POV! It will be a bit sad, but I'll be explaining why he fell "in love" with Kriss.**

**For the Team Aspen fans, don't worry, I won't end the Aspen and America fluff for a while. Main pairing is still a secret, so if you want to find out... you have to WAIT. W-A-I-T, WAIT.**

**Leave a review, complain about how you want Maxon and America to be together, fangirl for Team Aspen fans or Maxon X Kriss shippers. I don't care. I just want you guys to wait, maybe leave a review, and wait some more.**

**BYE! SEE YOU NEXT TIME!**


	2. Chapter 2

_**Going Back to the One: Chapter 2**_

**Me: Hello! Imma back beautiful and handsome people of the world. Thanks to those who reviewed.**

**Thanks to CateCassidy for being the first reviewer! **

**Don't worry Maxon lovers. **

**As I said, this chapter will be in **_**Maxon's POV**_**.**

**Now, you might find this chapter confusing and you might find your laptop or tablet on the floor, screen broken and all its little parts scattered on the floor. So I will not be held liable for broken gadgets. Just warning you.**

**Now, ON TO THE STORY! Happy Reading!**

**P.S. I can't believe there is actually someone who ships Maxon and Kriss! I don't but I still can't believe it.**

o-o-o

Music starts to play and I feel nervous. Being an expert in hiding feelings, it was barely noticeable. Instead of showing my nervousness, I show awe. The palace has never looked so beautiful.

The theme was obviously blue. Flowers decorated the room, all of them in shades of blue, some hovering to green, others to purple. The curtains are white and carefully placed along the windows in intervals, forming small waves around the room. By my feet is the end of a long blue carpet, where _she _will walk. Walk to me, to the rest of her future.

I look down at my suit. White. No crinkles nor folds. No dirt or stains.

The only bright color was the blue rose corsage pinned on my chest pocket.

Blue because it's her favorite color.

Perfect.

My body turns towards the palace door. I see all of my guests. I don't think I can name even 10% of them. Most of them are those from outside the palace, from the village. They made time to watch me and my fiancé get... married.

The word feels so foreign it almost makes me think that all of this isn't real.

It is.

The door opens and my eyes are almost blinded by who was behind it. I see her red hair tied into a beautiful bun, no hair out of place. She was wearing a dazzling white gown, courtesy of her three maids. A veil covered her face; I could see her beauty nonetheless.

The sleeveless dress fitted tightly by her chest and waist, ruffles flowing down to the floor, looking like roses. In her hands was a bouquet of blue and white roses, freshly picked that morning from the royal garden.

_Wow, _I mouthed.

She takes her first steps and I feel myself stiffen. This is it. This is really it.

I glance at my parents.

My mother is crying with tears of joy, happy for me. I wish my father was the same. He kept staring at me sternly, trying to look into my core and find a way for me to stop this whole wedding altogether and marry who he wanted me to. I grip my hands, feeling like they're the shields keeping me safe from his selfish demands. Acting like a father came to him like a snake trying to grow legs. He was a snake, but that didn't change the fact he was technically my biological father.

Respect is still required.

The rest of the Selected girls were in the room. Others happy with their new-found loved ones, others glaring at my bride like there was no tomorrow.

But there was a tomorrow. I couldn't wait for it.

Tomorrow, _the One_ is my wife.

I see my bride's little sister, looking like an adorable flower girl as she skips down the aisle, tossing flower petals as she sings along with the music. My bride's little brother is the ring bearer, waiting quietly by the corner as he holds the pillow securely in his hands.

The rest of my bride's family were here. Her older brother came here probably for the image, but her older sister was in hysterics. She looked like she was overflowing with joy. She held a new baby in her arms. She just gave birth a few weeks ago, so she was put in a wheel chair so she can conserve her energy as she travelled. My new mother-in-law was cheering for us like she was watching a ball game, in total contrast to my father-in-law, who was as rigid as a rock.

She kneeled beside me and she held my hand. I squeezed it, knowing that her hand, and her entire everything, is going to be mine.

o-o-o

"Who has the rings?" The priest asked after the mass.

Our ring bearer jumped at the mention of the rings and he hurriedly scrambles to his feet. My bride holds in a small snicker. "I have the rings!" He said a little too loudly.

I take a ring and my bride takes the other. I ask for her hand and she give it to me.

"I, Maxon Calix Schreave, vow to love my wife for as long as I am here on Earth and even after. I will love her with the love we have both never expected. I feel in love with her the moment I saw her picture. She looked like she was in love. I was foolish to have thought it was for me."

I bow my head and close my eyes before I continue, slipping the ring on her finger.

"I met you by accident, and I have to say that it was one of the best accidents that has ever happened in my entire life. From the time we talked in the garden and you shouted at me because of your awful temper, our love began to grow. First disguised as friendship, then as the time passed by, I learned how true love feels like. How it feels like to just be a normal guy in love with a girl who loves him back. It was the simple happiness I have been searching for all my life and you gave it to me America Singer. You did that."

The rest of the wedding was a blur –I couldn't even remember America's vows— and I found myself dazed when the she caught my attention with her last line.

"_I love you, Maxon."_ The words were so sweet and smooth like chocolate. The words echoed in my ears, I hope they would forever.

"Do you, America Singer, take Maxon Calix Schreave as your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I do."

"Do you, Maxon Calix Schreave, take America Singer as your lawfully wedded wife?" The priest says, bringing me out of my trance.

I jump a little and America giggles. I give her playful pout before it breaks into a smile. I stare into her eyes and I take a deep breath in, savouring the moment.

"I do." I finally say.

"I now pronounce you, man and wife. You may now kiss the bride."

Those were the words I have been waiting for. I pull the veil away from her face, moving it gently like it was fragile glass. Her face shone with the love I have been craving for. I touched her cheek and pulled her close as I closed my eyes.

Our lips touched and I felt at home. A warm sensation ran through my veins and my blood pumping from my beating heart flow in them. I pulled her closer and wrapped my arms around her waist, hugging her like she was mine.

She is.

I don't feel like we were at the event the whole country was watching. Kids are watching, my mind said. We were alone, my heart said.

My eyes are wet and little drops of water fall on my clothes, both from her and I. I put her hair behind her ear and I kiss her a little softer, afraid she was getting hurt. She pushed herself on me, like she was telling me that she wanted more.

It was a dream come true.

I hesitantly let go.

My mouth forms a smile and I open my eyes. I step back. Shocked.

Dark hair replaced red, red flowers replaced blue, the palace was darker than I imagined, my father is now smiling and I am not.

"Maxon?" The stranger that replaced America asked, her eyes filled with so much care.

It made me nauseous.

"K-Kriss?! What are _you _doing here?" I scan the room, searching for my wife. May and Gerad were gone, so were their parents. This must be some kind of joke. Yeah... an _evil _joke. "This isn't funny. Where are you America?" I ask like an idiot. Our guests stare at me like I'm crazy, whispering negative and confused comments all around, loud enough for them to bounce off the palace's walls.

Kriss bows, apologizing for me. She grabs my shoulders. "What are you talking about, Maxon? I'm _Kriss. _Not _America._ You chose _me. _Not _her. _We just got married." I could sense that she was holding back her tears.

Like I am.

I wipe my mouth disrespectfully in front of her, thinking that I could take that kiss back. That wasn't America, it was Kriss. But how is that possible? She was here just a moment ago. I was marrying _her. _

I turn around and I'm not in the palace anymore. I'm in the garden. It seemed to stretch out forever. I'm all alone.

"**You gave me up, Maxon."**

"America?" I was certain that that was her voice.

I see a flutter of blue fabric by the rose bushes and I run towards it.

"Where are you?" I demand. "America!"

The garden started to look like it was wilting. Green leaves were turning brown and the colourful flowers were turning black, like the trunks of the trees bending down like they were about to snap.

I find myself on the floor. I must've tripped but I remained completely numb. I saw two pairs of feet in front of my eyes and I raised my head so fast I thought it would've broken off my neck.

My eyes see America as they grow wider and wider. I glared at her arm around the man beside her, his face was too dark I couldn't make it out.

I stood up and punched the man hard. I felt my fist pass through skin and I heard someone scream.

It wasn't the man.

I saw my fist covered in America's blood, who was wincing on the floor, touching her cut lip.

"No." I say, holding my fist like I wanted to cut it off. I do.

"**Maxon," **America's voice is filled with fear and... tears. **"Why do you always try to hurt me?"**

"No, I wasn't trying to—"

"**First you cheat with other girls just to make me jealous, saying that it's your **_**responsibility.**_**"**

"It is but—"

"**Next, you break my heart and tell me you've fallen in love with someone else, shattering the false hope I've been clinging on all this time. You told me you loved me but... it turns out you were lying."**

"America, _please _let me—"

"**And the worst thing is, now that I have moved on, you still tried to find a way to hurt me and the man I ****love."**

_The man I love..._

"No..." I whisper. "No. You're not in love with him America. You love _me._" I'm desperate now. I could feel the sweat on my forehead dripping.

"**No Maxon, I never did."**

America's blood falls on the floor and she hugs the man beside her. I wanted to _kill _him.

She stares at me with eyes I have never seen before. She wraps her arms around the man's neck and she does the unimaginable.

Her lips touch his and she stays there. Anger possesses my body and I want to beat the man down, make him beg for mercy and forgiveness for stealing my America.

_My America._

Despite that...

I can't move. It's like my feet are frozen in place. I feel hands on my shoulders and I see my father, holding a pair of hand cuffs in his hand.

He throws me into a cage that seemed to come from nowhere after cuffing me and I don't feel anything. Kriss was on the floor in her wedding dress, wearing a crown on her head.

I bang my hands on the door the King was locking. "Let me out!" He looked at me like I was a helpless dog and gave me a sadistic grin. That monster disappears from my face.

America walks away, hand-in-hand with the unknown man. "America!" I scream her name, Kriss gripping my shoulders. "Get away!" I push her away, her back hitting the bars and I didn't feel any sympathy or guilt towards that.

"America! I lied! I never loved Kriss or anyone else...

"... I love_ you!_

"Please... Come back..."

She doesn't stop nor look my way, she was probably too happy with her _new _lover to notice my screams. Kriss pulls me to face her direction. An evil smile forms on her face and for the first time in my life I am absolutely terrified.

"I'm afraid you're too late, my dear." She says coldly. "You're all mine now..."

o-o-o

I wake up screaming.

It was just a dream.

No, a nightmare.

My breathing was heavy, my hair was messy, my eyes were red and I was on the floor, covered by a mess of blankets and pillows. Tears are making a pool under me and I stand up, throwing whatever I grab to the wall. I grunt as I do so.

_You're an idiot Maxon. You just __**had **__to let her go didn't you?_

When I run out of things to throw, I flip my bed over, watching as it crashes. My fingers are in my tangled hair and I think I'm about to snap.

"Maxon?! What are you doing?!" A voice asks.

I see Kriss, breathing heavily like she just ran a marathon. I don't notice her and I punch the wall, my fingers bleed but I am nothing. I slam myself to the wall multiple times, the pain failing to make me forget about the way I just gave up the person most important to me.

"Maxon, stop it! You're hurting yourself!" She begs.

That's the point, idiot.

I feel Kriss's arms around me and I cringe at her touch, pushing her into the wall like in my nightmare. "Don't touch me!"

She recovers and stands up, wobbly from the impact. "M-Maxon, I-I'm just trying to h-help."

"You can _help_ me by **getting the hell out of my room**!" I point at the door and I start to feel the pain of my wounds.

"I'm not—"

"**GET OUT!"** I grab my pillow and throw at her side, missing her. She runs out the door, obviously crying and slams it shut.

I sit on the edge of my flipped bed and prop my elbows on my knees, staring at my bloody hands. I glance at the door, then at my messy room, and then back to my hands. My head falls and buries itself under my arms.

"_What have I done?"_

o-o-o

**Me: Now that was depressing.**

**You really thought that they were getting married, didn't you? I'm sorry for giving you guys false hope. And I'm sorry that I'm not telling you why Maxon lied to America. YET. I'll tell you that in the further chapters.**

**Really sorry for giving Maxon such a hard time but I promise, he'll get his chance.**

**This isn't necessarily Maxerica though.**

**Now then, next chapter preview: (not exactly the start of the next chapter but it's somewhere in the middle)**

**o-o-o**

_**Someone's late for class. I open the door to the classroom and find a young ivory-haired girl walk in, adjusting her glasses and the strap of her guitar. Apologizing to me for being late. It looked old, but sturdy enough to be played. "Don't worry. Come in." I say with a smile. She walks into the room shyly, her classmates eyeing her. As the teacher, I scold them. "Staring is rude, class. Now," I turn to the girl. "introduce yourself."**_

_**She smiles at the class and her voice is so cheerful it's like she's singing when she talks. "Hello everyone, my name is_."**_

**o-o-o**

**Me: That's enough for today. Leave a review, rate, and most importantly, wait.**

**Bye!**


	3. Chapter 3

_**Going Back to The One – Chapter 3**_

**Me: Hello dear Readers! This is kind of a happy chapter, for America anyway... you know what happened in the last chapter.**

**I broke my laptop and I had to rewrite this chapter all over again so I hope you all like it.**

**The new character's name is based on a suggestion my friend made. Thanks dude! You know who you are.**

**Happy Reading! **

**s-o-e**

Aspen hands me his arm to wrap my own in as he opens the car door for me. "Milady," he says jokingly. Using such a formal voice doesn't fit him at all and I hold back a giggle and play along.

"Of course, my good man." I cling onto him and we walk down the lane to get to our plane. He carries my backpack and we get in the plane. The plane looked exactly like it was when I first rode it. The chairs, the food, the attendants, all the same. There was just one big difference aside from the number of passengers.

I wasn't taking this plane to the palace; it was going to fly me home. The thought made my soul fill itself with joy. I couldn't wait to see May and the others again.

The chair I sat on was soft and could recline so I could sleep on it. Aspen took a seat beside me, trying to give me space not to arouse suspicion. I do the same.

Why are we trying to be inconspicuous? I wasn't a property of Illea anymore and I can love anyone I want to and the public won't have an opinion about that anymore. That fact made my chest lighten.

It felt great to be free again. Partly. My leftover feelings for a certain someone seems to be pushing my weight down. I push the thought aside and I face Aspen, who was trying to put his seatbelt on.

The stewardess leaves and check on the pilot.

I grab the buckle and put it over his waist and guide it to the lock on the other side. I had to bend over so I was right above his chest. He grabs my chin and he makes my eyes lock with his. I look out of the corner of my eye and check if anyone was watching us. He never gave me a chance.

His hands are under my ear. I shiver since he knows I have a tickle spot there, _like a dog_, he always used to say. I run my fingers through his hair and he slowly pulls me to his lips.

Closer and closer until...

The speaker of the planes sound and we're back to our places before the stewardess opens the door. I pout at her as she explains how we should use the seatbelts and the oxygen tanks and the like. Once Aspen made her leave to get me something to eat, he laughs out loud.

"What?" I ask, my lips still in a straight line.

"You look cute when you're disappointed." He sets his elbow on his armrest and his chin rests in his hand. He gives me a smile so attractive that it made me red all over.

"I look disappointed?" I look away and try to distract myself as we fly off the ground. I grip on the armrests as we do. Sometimes I still feel nervous when we take off.

"Yes, you do."Aspen says. "And may I ask why?"

I do my best to sound dignified and NOT desperate. "Who _wouldn't_ be disappointed if someone ruined your moment with the person you love?"

I blush uncontrollably. I can't believe I used the phrase, "The person you love" so blandly. Surprisingly, tints of pink rise in Aspen's face and he shakes his head and narrows his eyes and wraps one arm around me so I could rest my head on his shoulder.

"I love you, too." He whispers.

He lets go and a few minutes and I stare out the window as we wait for the stewardess to come back. I get lost in the sight below me and Aspen quits trying to talk to me after ignoring him so many times. Apologizing would be the right thing to do but I don't; I'm probably never going to ride a plane for the rest of my life so I want to make the most of this moment.

In the very end of my line of vision, I see the palace. Distance makes it grow smaller and smaller.

I wonder what Mary and the others are doing.

I wonder what Elise, Celeste and Kriss are doing.

Is it alright for me to wonder what the prince is doing?

Weight increases on my shoulder and I see it is Aspen's head. I stare at the clock. I've been lost in thought for 10 whole minutes and Aspen must've fallen asleep. The stewardess came in a few minutes ago and I didn't even notice the food in front of me until now. Grabbing the Spanish bread, I lean down my chair, careful to not wake Aspen, and look out the window again...

...Waiting for my future.

"This bread tastes amazing." I mutter quietly.

**t-m-i**

We get to Carolina in a matter of a few hours, as said by the stewardess. For me, though, it felt like it ended the minute it started. I admit I was disappointed when the stewardess woke Aspen up a few minutes earlier, thinking that he, sleeping on my shoulder, was bothering me. She was very much wrong.

Aspen breathes out an irritated sigh and leaned the other direction after that and fell asleep again.

What a responsible protector...

He is now standing and offering his hand to me so he can help me stand up and escort me out the plane. I wrap my arm around his –he doesn't hesitate— and we both thank the stewardess. She gives us a curtsy and a questioning look and opens the plane's doors.

Millions of screams greet us as we do and Aspen lets my arm go, the same time I let go of his. Why?

Force of habit, I guess.

The Fours and the castes below them welcome with warm and homey smiles. The Twos and Threes –my current caste— look at me like they expected I would lose. I raise my chin up. I won't let them ruin this moment.

I pass in the middle of two rows of velvet ropes that separate me from the crowd with Aspen shielding me. I shake hands and even give hugs to some of the people greeting me like I just won the Selection.

One of them was an extremely friendly grandmother. She was a Five, like I used to be. She gave me a very tight squeeze that made me lose 1 day's worth of oxygen. As I recover for lost air, she smiles at me as she says, "I really thought you would've made a wonderful princess."

I give her a good stare at that. "You... do?" I ask in disbelief. "I thought that after that thing with the suggestion about removing castes everyone _wanted_ me to lose."

Her eyes shine with a wisdom I have never seen before. Even with wrinkles, her smile and eyes make it seem like she was my age. The silver crown on her head didn't make her any less beautiful.

"Of course not, dear." She says. "I also believe that people should not be restrained into different castes because of our ancestors' pasts. We all have the capacity to be more than what our castes say we can be. Like you."

I held her hands and my eyes showed her gratitude. "Thank you."

She walks into the crowd and is now hidden by the variety of people. She gives me one last wave before she did.

Aspen nudges me on the shoulder. "I told you so."

"What?" I whisper, giving him a shocked smile. "You were the one that told me I couldn't become a good princess."

He rubs the back of his head. "I know that and I apologized. The truth is, the reason I only said that was because—"

My shoulders felt heavy and I fall into Aspen's arms.

May just jumped on me.

My face felt warm as I stood up quickly. "Sorry." I said quickly before turning to May.

"Thanks for the welcome greeting, May." I say sarcastically. Tears filled the tips of her eyes as she wrapped her arms around me.

"America!" She cheered. "You're home! You're home! You're home!" She sang and repeated that for what I think was a million times. I hug her back, wiping my eyes.

"You have absolutely no idea how much I missed you." I say, now holding her at arm's length.

"I bet I missed you more than you missed me."

"I'd probably win _that_ bet."

Shrieks of laughter came out of our lips when May tugs my dress. "Your dress is beautiful!" She puts the fabric carefully, like she was afraid it might rip.

"Of course it is. Mary, Anne and Lucy made it." My voice has a hint of sadness in it. I miss those three already.

"I love the dress they made me. See?" She gestures to herself. "I'm wearing it right now."

I look at her sundress. She twirls and I watch the fabric dance around like waves of a colourful ocean. It really does suit her well.

I see a small boy come out of the legs of the crowd and he holds my hand.

"Hey, Gerad," I carry the boy in my arms and I was too happy to even notice how heavy he was. "Miss me?"

His cheeks turn red and he avoids my eyes."N-No I didn't," –Ah, a child's pride— "And I'm too old to be carried."

I put him down and mess his already messy hair. "Is that so?" I ask in mock sadness. "I guess you don't want any present."

His eyes widen at the mention of the present I don't even have. I snort quietly, holding back a laugh.

"I take it back! I did miss you." He puts out his hands like a beggar. "Can I have my present now?"

May hits him softly on the shoulder. "That's so unfair!" She turns to me. "Where's _my _present? I missed you too!"

I couldn't take it anymore. I laughed my heart out and Aspen covered his mouth with his fist to stop from doing the same thing.

"Get out of my way!" Someone yells.

I gulp. Is that...?

I see that Mom kicked the velvet ropes aside to get them out of their way, pulling Dad with her. "America!"

"Oh no," I whisper.

"What's wrong?" Aspen asks. "Aren't you excited to see your mom again?"

"Well, duh. Of course I am. I'm afraid that she might..." I never got to finish my sentence.

"...scold you because you lost?" Aspen did it for me. I nod. He really does know me too well.

I grip my fists, bracing myself for the longest sermon I would ever get my entire life. Instead...

Mom's arms are around my shoulders and the force of her hug makes me gasp from suffocation. "Honey! I'm so, so glad you're home."

I blink my eyes quickly. "This must be a dream."

She gives me an offended look and I feel guilty all of the sudden. "What? Can't a mother be glad for her daughter's arrival?"

"I'm sorry, Mom. I just thought that you were disappointed at me."

"Of course not, America. I'm actually relieved to have you here, safe from those rebels." She says, causing my eyes to grow. "And besides," she adds. "We're _Threes _now! We're going to get a new home and new jobs in a few weeks..."

She trails off. So _that's_ why she's so happy. I let out a small giggle and I give a warm hug to my Dad, who rarely shows any signs of extreme emotion, is now crying.

May and Gerad wraps their arms around Dad and me and Mom hugs me on my left.

A family hug.

This warmth... this happiness... this love...

I'm home.

**g-h-n**

Once I get home, my mom comments on how much Aspen has changed since the draft. His new look and figure, the money he has been able to give to his family...

As she babbles, Aspen starts to explain stuff I already know: the new house, the new job opportunities, etc.

Mom's ears wiggle at the sound of the new life we were going to have as Threes.

The new house will be ready by next week. He showed me the layout of the house. Only to me. My parents have already designed everything, well, Mom did pretty quickly. My room was a large room with King-sized bed, covered by a blue cloth that looked like a roof. May and I would share that room. A grand piano was going to be placed beside a large window.

Skipping the other details about the house, Aspen also handed me some documents. One of them was a form: A job application form for a job as a music teacher.

My eyes widen and I glance at the form, then at Aspen. How did he know I wanted to be a teacher? I grab a pen on the table and start scribbling on the blanks, providing needed information like my name, age, education and many more.

I hand it to Aspen after a few minutes. "Very good," he says. "You will start next week."

My eyebrow arches. "Wait, isn't there supposed to be an interview or an orientation at least?"

"There is no need for an interview. The prince was the one that recommended you this job; the school will not be able to contradict his decision. However, you will still have the orientation and a practice class."

"Practice class?"

"You will first act as a substitute teacher to different kinds of students, to see if you are capable enough to handle your responsibilities. It will only last for a week. Once you finish that stage, you may now officially teach in a real class of your own. Supplies and the uniform needed will be provided. They will arrive first thing tomorrow."

He turns to my parents before he continues.

"You will also be given a list of career opportunities. I request 'music composer' for you Mrs. Singer and art professor for Mr. Singer. Do not be surprised about the speed of the process. All the candidates, whether they might win or not, are being prepared for when they will leave the palace even before they have entered the palace," his eyes land on mine and he gives me a small smile.

I grab the soccer ball on the floor, Gerad's obviously, and hand it to him. "Isn't this great buddy? Now you can acquire a job about sports."

Gerad stops the ball with his foot, kicks it in the air and it lands in his hands. "Really?" he asks. "Like what?"

"A sports coach," I say. "You can train others to be as good as you."

He bounces the soccer ball on his knees. "I don't think that's possible. No one can be as good as me." Confidence penetrates his aura and I feel joy fill mine. Gerad has found his passion.

Mom scans through the list with my father on the couch. I go up to my room, Aspen right on my trail unnoticed by my parents.

My bed may not be as soft as the one in the palace; I missed it all the same. The smell of me is almost gone. No one has even touched this ever since I left. I face backwards at it and let myself fall on the mattress, covering myself with the blankets.

"Looks like someone have been homesick," Aspen closes the door behind him and he tosses my backpack in my face. I get up, letting the backpack fall on the floor. The jar inside it makes a loud sound. Panicking, I unzip my bag and check if I broke it. No cracks, I sigh with relief.

The dark-haired man I consider my boyfriend walks to me and sits on my bed. "She's been sentimental as well."

I put it back in my bag —not wanting him to see that the penny's gone— and say, "Oh, shut up."

He pats on his lap, inviting me to come over. I do. His legs are lean and strong, his face makes it look like I weight like a feather as I sit on him. Arms fold in front on me, on my waist. My head tilts up.

"When will you come back?" I say, hoping it won't take too long.

He brushes my hair with his fingers, counting the locks as they fall off them. "It'll only take a few months for you, but for me, living in that palace with..." His face turns sour. "..._him_... and away from you will make it seem like I'll be gone for an eternity."

The right thing to say would be, "Don't worry," or "I'll be waiting," or something like that, but I don't.

Instead, our lips connect, pursued by me, and everything I could've said in words wouldn't compare to this language— our silent yet special language.

Time passes by like it's not there and I'm surprised how could have held my breath that long. I soak him in and I reach for the small of his back and he takes a fistful of dress. I lean on the mattress, the soft mass I sleep on touching my back. Aspen is almost above me now and I smile as I inhale for some air.

A scream enters my ears; the drums in them feel like they're bleeding. Aspen gets off my quickly and I sit up on the bed. A gasp escapes my mouth and Aspen swears under his breath so soft only I could hear it.

Both my parents are at my door.

"M-Mom!" My voice is muffled. "I-I can explain—"

She jumps on Aspen and...

**Expected:**

- Chokes him

- Punches him in the face

-Kicks him where it matters

- Throw him onto the wall

**Reality:**

She pinches his cheeks and wraps her arms around his neck happily. I watch them in silence. Mom touches his cheek with hers and looks at me, hope shining in her eyes.

"Oh, so _this _is my new son-in-law. You have such good taste." She gestures to herself. "Like me. You're a _Two_, right? You are such a handsome young man. Your mother has told me so much about you!"

Aspen nods and I notice how cute he is when his face is red. I bite my lip and cover my mouth; my snickers still pass through. He gives me a glare and I shut up.

Not because of him; because of my dad.

He slams the door to the wall and the vibration shakes my ears. "America Singer, to my room. NOW!"

I scramble to my feet and run out the door, ducking under my dad's arm. Sweat trickles down my forehead. I have never seen him so mad before. I wait for him a few feet away from the room and I see him peek into the room again, shouting:

"YOU TOO, LEGER!"

He marches out like my dad is his commander and he's in protocol. My arm clings to him and my dad walks in front of us.

"What is your dad going to do?" Aspen asks, walking slowly.

My dad only makes me go to his room for two reasons: 1) to show me his new masterpiece; 2) to scold me, which he hardly ever does. The only time he has ever scolded me in his room was because I broke the frame he was going to sell to a very rich client. It didn't end well...

I swallow a lump in my throat.

"He's going to kill us."

**i-**o**-s**

I am in desperate need of ear plugs. I can't cover my ears or he'll scold me even more.

Who would want that?

Dad's face is all red and sweaty from anger. "DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOU TWO HAVE GOTTEN YOURSELVES INTO?"

Aspen tries to cut in. "Mr. Singer, listen. I love your daughter. I knew what I was do—"

"No, you didn't," He takes in a few deep breaths. "Tell me, how long have both of you had relationships with each other?"

I don't answer and he reprimands me. "I am your father, America. I asked you a question and it is your duty to follow me and answer!"

I play with Aspen's hands. "U-Um... t-two..."

"Two what? Two weeks? Two months?"

My head shakes. "N-No... two... y-years..."

"T-Two... two _years_?!"

Mom grabs my Dad's shoulders as he slowly shudders in rage. I grip Aspen's hands, my fear passing itself to him. He walks out the door, shoving Mom away, and slams it shut, the frames of paintings swaying on the nails that hang them on the walls.

"I can understand why he's mad though," says Aspen, setting his hand on my thigh. "Think about it, we had such a long relationship without his consent. If I were him I'd also feel betrayed."

I feel a twinge of guilt in my chest. I felt so angry when I found out M— I mean the Prince lied to me. How hypocritical of me to when I lied about so much more than he has.

"He must be experiencing the same remorse you do, dear." Mom says, looking at the pictures of Dad and me on his desk. "He allowed his daughter to be sent to a competition like the Selection not knowing that she was in love with someone else. He's not the only one at fault though." She walks toward me and hugs me.

"I'm sorry, America. Being a Five and having to survive, I always want things to go my way because I think it's for the best, even when it's not. I want you to know that I will always love you, no matter what. Even if it doesn't seem like it."

For the first time in what seems like a long time, my mother has finally acted like one. I hug her back quickly and stand up.

"Thanks mom," I say. "I have to go talk to Dad." I share a look with Aspen and he nods.

I walk out the door and search for him.

**m-s-s**

I find him in my room, smoothening the creases of my pillow. He stares at nothing in particular and he doesn't respond when he hears me come in.

"Dad?" No answer. I walk to him and sit beside him. "Dad," I talk with the most sincere voice I could make, my hand twitching as I reach for his shoulder. "I'm sorry. It's just that—"

He laughs an exhausted laugh. "Why are you apologizing?" He avoids my eyes. "It's my fault. It's my entire fault. I made you go to that stupid competition, just to make sure we can have a comfortable life," I see him grip his fists. "I'm the father of this family. I should've been responsible for that, not you, the young innocent girl who was in love. God, if you were caught and whipped just like your old friend because of me and my selfishness... I-I won't be able to forgive myself."

I hug him and rest my head on his shoulder. "No dad, I'm at fault too. I should've told you about Aspen a long time ago. If I did, maybe things would've been easier for the both of us right now.

"I love you, Dad."

He finally looks my way and his eyes are sparkling with tears again. "I love you too, kitten."

The door makes a small squeaking sound and Aspen emerges from behind it. Dad stands up and walks to him. After a few steps, he looks back at me.

"Do you love him?" He asks.

No hesitations. "Yes, Dad, I really do."

He pats Aspen on the back, a little too hard than he meant to. Aspen rubs where he was hit and my dad puts an arm over the boy's shoulders. "Take care of my daughter."

Aspen's eyes light up and they gaze at mine.

"I will."

**i-i-n**

A few weeks later...

Aspen left the night he brought me home. Right now I'm doing chores around the house with Mom, helping May with her homework, playing with Gerad, watching Dad paint.

Everything is almost the same. Except...

We were in our new house; it was bigger than our old one. I never realized how small and cramped our old house was, even though I stayed in the palace for so long. There were 3 bedrooms— one for me and May, another for my parents and another room Gerad wanted to keep for himself.

"I want to have my own room." He says.

We had a spacious living room which leads to a kitchen, dining room and we had two bathrooms. I was thankful we had one.

My dad had a separate art room that was in front of a glass door that leads to a garden.

We had a small library, filled with more sketchpads than books. I kept our lone history book in my room, under the bed, traumatized by the experience with Gregory's journal.

I step on wood as I walk around the two-storey house.

I've been here for a few days already but I don't think I can get used to this.

What else was new?

My new uniform— a teacher's uniform. I was wearing a magenta blazer over a white polo shirt and black slacks for the bottom. My hair was in a tight bun, accessory glasses were in front of my eyes, I held an attendance record and music book in my hand, filled with music sheets. A strap of my guitar case rested on my shoulders.

Orientation was yesterday, where we talked about the Introduction to Teaching and the lesson plans. The reason I had a guitar with me instead of a violin was because the first semester would be dealing with the guitar and piano.

I wonder why they told me about the schedule when I was only going to teach the class for only a week? How sure were they that I was going to pass? Or was it because the prince recommended me? No. I won't let myself feel any more gratitude towards him.

May opens the television. _The Report_ is on. We haven't watched it in a while. Gavril informed us when I last watched that Celeste, Elise and Kriss were the last remaining three left in the Elite.

This I already know.

He also said that the Prince won't be able to make a comment about it due to a certain injury. He was injured?

This I did not know.

The emblem appears on the screen and music starts playing. I sit on our new much longer sofa and watch with May. Gavril starts introductions.

"I have good news and bad news. For the good news, the rebels have not attacked for the last few weeks."

Sighs of relief erupt from the crowd, from me and May too. Mom, Dad and Gerad sit beside us; I turned up the volume. Even though we could afford other channels now, we always got together when we watched _The Report._

Gavril continues as the crowd silences.

"The king believes that they may have stopped after the farewell of one certain former Elite girl. Whose name will not be spoken?"

I shrug. "Of course they wouldn't. It's already obvious the King's blaming me." Mom shushes me and May grabs my shoulder.

"The bad news, sadly, is that Princess Nicoletta of Italy has refused to make ties with our country. As of November X, XXXX, Wednesday, she sent a telegram informing us that she takes back her former decision of making an alliance with Illea, due to..." He snickers like he can't believe what he was going to say next.

"Due to the Prince's erroneous decision in picking our new princess," My eyes widen and I turn up the volume as he goes on.

"Her exact words were, _'I ask for the forgiveness of the King of Illea, for what many of think is an irrational reason for me to suddenly refuse to support your wonderful country. _

"_However, my unnamed conditions were not met. Unless the person I wanted to be a princess wins the Selection, Italy will not make any amends for Illea. My father, the King of Italy, agrees with my decision completely. I'm sorry even now that the girl I vote for has now lost and that I have seen that the country is unable to choose a leader whom my father and I believe can rule, I will still have to stand by my beliefs and choices. Once again, sincere apologies to all of you.'_

"Who is this girl that is to be blamed for our lost chance to gain such a powerful ally? Here is the Prince of Illea, Maxon Calix Schreave, to give us his view on the topic."

Applause comes out of the speakers and the Prince's face is on the screen. He takes the microphone. I notice that he's wearing gloves now. I wonder why?

"Thank you Gavril," he says, waving at the crowd. "I owe you my gratitude for being patient with me and waiting for my unnamed injuries to heal before I make an appearance here again. Honestly, I suppose it may be Natalie, since she was one of the latest ones of the Elite to leave before we got the complaint."

Gavril raises an eyebrow and puts on a mischievous smile. "Oh, is that so? If memory serves me right, I am quite positive that Lady Natalie is not the only one who left that day. What about Lady America?"

It puzzles me to see the Prince look so pale. The fact he remains quiet adds to my confusion. The King gives Gavril a look, demanding him to stop talking.

He doesn't listen and our host continues. "I recall that she was one of the hosts of the welcoming party for Princess Nicoletta. Am I right? I heard that that event was such a huge success; the princess has even commented on how she has grown rather fond of one of the hosts there. With all these in mind, wouldn't the Princess be more likely referring to Lady America, the girl who wanted to achieve freedom by removing the caste system she calls a so-called cage and obviously got into the King's bad side?"

I cover my head with a cushion. I'm not part of the Selection anymore, why did I have to be part of this controversy? I stood up and turned off the television, not bothering to listen to what Maxon says next.

My parents protest and I point at the clock to quiet them down.

"It's a long walk to the school and I only have 20 minutes before my class starts. I don't want to be late."

I walk out the door with Dad and I hear someone fumbling over the remote, turning on the television again. I sigh.

Dad walked me to the school, the only private school in Carolina. It looked like a large castle, flag poles on the tips of the dark roofs that are on the yellow walls. I see three buildings: the grade school building, the high school building and the gym, also used as an auditorium. Giant cedar trees, rarely seen, are planted in different intervals on the sides of the path. It was much smaller compared to the palace, like the palace was my new house and the school was my old house.

I have never seen the school up close before, because only Twos and Threes can afford to study here, some Fours can, but not much. Most of us are homeschooled. Lower castes go to public schools. Fives and lower may get into private schools, if they pass for a scholarship. I heard the test in beyond average in difficulty, so I never tried it out before.

Others, because of their needs, tend to work instead of studying, like Aspen used to do.

"Good morning," A tall aged woman in heels greets. "You must be Ms. Singer. I am Zeny Beloy, the Music and Arts subject area coordinator. I will be guiding you throughout your practicum. And your father's as wells."

Zeny adjusted her glasses, the only mature accessory in her outfit. She was wearing a plain white shirt under a brown jacket and jeans— not exactly what a professional would wear.

She catches me staring and says, "Oh, don't mind my clothes. Today is my day-off and I only came in to guide you through the school. Now, come on, the students won't keep quiet waiting for you, you know."

Dad is asked to leave and I wave goodbye to him before I go in through the gates.

We pass through wide hallways, wooden lockers on the walls, students roaming around like the hallway had no end. Paintings of people and scenes I don't recognize garnish the walls with their colour; the smell of paint reminds me of my Dad.

We take a few turns, left, left, right, before we reach a room at the near end of the school. The music room.

I see a grand piano, some guitars, a teacher's table and cabinet for storing music sheets and the like. The walls were in a nice cream colour, great for concentrating. Pictures of composers hang on the walls, 1, 2, 3 photos. Music notes decorate the bulletin board behind it and a quote in bright blue letters read:

**MUSIC IS NOT JUST A COMBINATION OF DIFFERENT SOUNDS, IT IS A WAY OF LIFE**

The room made me much more eager to teach.

I peek in closer to see students, probably 25 it seems, playing around, laughing, talking, reading and other things I didn't expect and Twos or Threes to do in public.

"I have never seen people from their castes seem so... lively before." I accidentally say.

Zeny laughs. "Don't be ridiculous, there aren't Twos in there. You will be teaching the scholars class, which consists of Fours and castes even lower. There are no Eights listed in this class, though. Twos only accept pure Threes as their educators."

She hands me her glasses and puts them on me. They have no grade so my vision is still as clear as it was before. "Here," She says. "This will make you appear more... serious."

I grip my fists to stop them from shaking.

"Don't worry Ms. Singer; you'll only be teaching 13 year olds. What could possibly go wrong?"

She pats my back and turns a heel before walking away. "Good luck Ms. Singer!" She whistles before disappearing in a turn. "And by the way, don't tell them your full name!" She adds, before her footsteps become too far away for me to hear.

What? Is that it? No tips or suggestions on how to start the class?

The minutes pass and I know she isn't coming back. A sigh escapes my lips. What a carefree teacher...

I grab the doorknob and turn it slowly. I hear rattling of chairs and stomping of feet as I go inside. Everyone is seated and I notice an empty chair in the middle. I cough and set my books and guitar on the teacher's table.

"Good morning," The students greet in synchronization.

"Good morning students." I gesture them to sit down once again. "You may call me Ms. Singer."

I check my lesson plan.

Activity # 1: Self-Introduction

I tell _my students_ –the term feels so weird— to stand up one by one, tell us their first names, caste and their main instrument that they want to play.

10 out of 25 students have stood up.

The first student was a Four, like my brother Kota, and he had flat black hair on his head, dark gold eyes and a big smile.

"Heyya!" Cheerful is my first impression of him. "My name's Jack, a Four and I would like to play... the bangos, you know, because they look fun and you can carry them around anywhere."

Second was a girl. She had strawberry blonde hair and purple contacts where her irises should be. "I'm Ara. Caste is Five, like you were Ms. Singer." She points at me and looks at me like we're one and the same. "I want to play the piano, firstly because piano music is so beautiful and secondly, because I don't want to get any calluses on my fingertips."

The class giggles and I roll my eyes. That's one of the reasons Gerad doesn't want to play any string instrument.

I remember the rest of the 8 names after.

Linda, Rain, Robert, Hoagie, Paulo, Shane, Andrea and Grace.

**((A/N: I just typed the first names I could think of so sorry is they're too common or lame.))**

Before we get to the 11th student, we hear a knock on the door. Several, actually.

Someone's late for class. I open the door to the classroom and find a young ivory-haired girl walk in, adjusting her glasses and the strap of her guitar. Apologizing to me for being late. It looked old, but sturdy enough to be played. "Don't worry. Come in." I say with a smile. She walks into the room shyly, her classmates eyeing her. As the teacher, I scold them. "Staring is rude, class. Now," I turn to the girl. "introduce yourself."

She smiles at the class and her voice is so cheerful it's like she's singing when she talks. "Hello everyone, my name is Fran. Fran Woods."

**g-**o-o

Before anything else, I introduced myself a second time to our latecomer.

"Hello Fran, my name is Ms. Singer, your music teacher."

Fran's eyes grow wider. She points at me, an awed look in her eyes. "Singer?" She says my name like it's not supposed to be said out loud. "As in _the _America Singer?"

I nod slowly, slightly confused and embarrassed. Zeny told me not to tell them my full name. I shake my head and say, "Yeah, that's me."

I mean, why should I even hide my—

"Aren't you one of the Rejected?"

A choir of giggles fill the room. I raise an eyebrow at her, slightly offended, okay, maybe really offended. "T-The Rejected?"

"Yeah," she says. "The girls the prince didn't like so he kicked them out. So you were among the 'Rejected'." She makes air quotes in the air as she hangs the guitar case to the back of her once empty chair. She crosses her legs and puts her elbows on the table, facing me. "So how was it like being in the palace, Ms. Singer?"

"U-Uh... well... it was great... the palace was beautiful and—"

Another girl, Linda, I think, cuts me off as she coos, "You're America Singer?! You're so lucky! You got to live in the palace with the Prince of Illea. How romantic!"

_Yes, it was romantic. _I think. _Sadly, romance and pain come in a package and I had to learn that the hard way._

The girls swoon and the boys make fake barfing noises. My eye twitches. "N-Now class, let's get back to business. First topic for today is—"

"Did he kiss you?" asks Andrea, her hands clasped under her chin, daydreaming. "If he did, what was it like?"

I absolutely did NOT want to talk about him, right now of all times. "No, I never kissed him," I lie, I feel heavy all of a sudden, "and I never l—"

"Was the competition hard?" Fran pops up again. I scowl at her. She started this whole mess by revealing my name to the class.

My voice sounds like a suppressed groan. "I lost, so why do you have t—?"

"I bet the food they have there would make our food throw itself out. Feeling unworthy to exist under such delicious culinary," says Jack, his mouth starting to water.

My eyes light up for a second. Just a second, at the mention of the food. Yes, a topic not about that useless and meaningless prince. "Yeah, the food there was so good that I felt like crying—err, I mean..."

Oh darn it, I'm drowning in their conversation. I wanted to forget about this, not reminisce every single detail of it all over again!

Noise scatters throughout the room and it feels like it's been going on for a year or two.

I grab the book on my desk and slam it on the teacher's table. The room goes silent.

"That's better," I say, hugging the book to my chest. "The Selection is now over for me so there is no reason to talk about it right now. Not about the prince, the food, nor the palace itself."

—_Please don't... it hurts...—_

I choke back a sob and I feel like crying. I miss him...

...

...

I miss... Aspen...

I rub my eyes and turn to the black board. It's only been a few weeks and I already want him back to my side again. No, I have to be patient and wait for a few more months.

Fran stands up not acknowledged and she bows to me, her hair covering her face. "I-I'm sorry, Ms. Singer. I-I didn't mean to..."

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I face her. "No, it's alright. You don't have to apologize. It's a teacher's job to answer her student's questions. I didn't have to be so rude." I say, like I have actually been teacher for more than a few minutes.

The class stands up and imitates Fran. "We're sorry..."

I sigh and form a small smile.

"Sit down everyone. Today, we have to learn our first instrument for this semester: the guitar. Everyone who doesn't have a guitar may get one from the wall over there." I point at the wooden board, where a few acoustic guitars for student-use have been placed. I unzip my guitar case and strum each string thrice to see if it's in tune.

The students are on their seats, grasping their wooden guitars and placing them on their laps.

I pick up a piece of chalk and scribble the lesson on the board, reading as I go. "Guitar playing, step one: Learning chords."

o-o-o

**Me: I have weird page breaks.**

**Anyway, this is a really long chapter. This is like a transitional chapter so only a few exciting things happen in this one, so sorry. This is kind of too much family and teacher-student relationship oriented, but I can't have it 100% romance. Gotta make the people with no love lives relate.**

**LIKE ME! HAHA!**

**I'll update really late next time because of my tight schedule, so please be patient with me. **

**Review please!**

**Bye! Love 'ya all!**

**P.S. Don't shout at me "Fran". You know who suggested, it's obvious right?**


	4. Chapter 4

Going Back To the One Chapter 4

**Me: Hello again, sorry if the last chapter was... too long and not too dramatic. I had to make some normal stuff because I DID say America will return to a normal life.**

**I promise to make it up to you guys.**

**In the 4****th**** chapter, we are going to look-see at the Selection... in KRISS's point of view. Don't be mad! She's just going to tell us what happened. That and the fact I don't want Maxon to tell this story, unless you want to cry your eyeballs out because of how sad he is.**

**This happens during the week before America became a teacher, hence, when Aspen returned to the palace, hence, the day after Maxon had his "nightmare". **

**I just have to reply to some reviewers:**

**winterprincess: Don't worry, we're not even halfway through the story yet. Pairings can change, and who said America has totally got over Maxon, not me! Thanks for the support my friend!**

**Now... What are you waiting for? Valentine's Day? Start reading!**

**Disclaimer – (I forgot to do this the last time) I do not own the Selection, all rights go to Kiera Cass**

o-o-o

The sounds of utensils on plates signal breakfast time. The maids walk in, handing us waffles and sausages. It smells wonderful, like always the cooks don't disappoint.

Too bad I can't eat it; depression and loneliness make me lose my appetite.

I see a lock of blonde hair as the door swings open. Maxon makes his way and the girls and I curtsy— a sure sign of respect. I notice gauzes covering his knuckles. His hands looked swollen.

His voice plays in my head, saying:

"_You can help me by getting the hell out of my room!"_

I grab the cup of water in front of me and take a small sip, trying to drown my sobs. I look at him, wanting him to know that I care about him.

He averts his eyes. My heart shatters.

Elise points at his hands. "What happened to your hands, Maxon?"

Prince Maxon looks at her, annoyed and tired. He tightens the gauze and takes a seat, answering her question with, "Rebels," he lied. He remains silent and bites into his buttered waffle.

"The rebels hurt you?" asks Celeste with faux innocence, I feel a sour taste in my mouth whenever I realize she exists.

I want to tell them so badly that, _No. No he wasn't hurt because of the rebels. He was hurt because of himself. Because he, himself, chose to let go of the person he loves..._

_... Who is not me._

The prince nods at her and takes his 3rd bite, standing up. "Sincere apologies my ladies, I am tired and I need to rest today, but I promise that I will spend time with you tomorrow." He leaves his barely touched food and walks out the door. My legs want to stand up and move forward so I can catch him, but my common sense tells me not to.

I excuse myself from the table and catch on with my reading, not eating anything. The Women's Room feels so empty now that there are only three of us left.

I must be crazy.

I'm supposed to be glad that America is gone. She was the only real competition I had anyway, now that she quitted, the prince is as good as mine. Or is he?

I stare at the clock. I wonder how long it will be before he finally makes a choice— a choice he doesn't want to decide.

Who will be the One?

o-o-o

After Silvia's lessons, I decided to take a walk around the palace. I am greeted by Anne, Mary and Lucy, carrying a few dresses in their hands, as I pass by America's old room. It wasn't my intention to pry but I really wanted to peek into America's room. Once they were out of sight, I carefully opened the door and walked in. The first thing I see is the grand piano, music sheets littered on top of it. I press a key not covered by paper and listen to the small sound echoing throughout the room.

"Music," I mutter. "Maybe if I could become more inclined to music, Maxon will love me more." I crumple a music sheet angrily in my hands and without looking I threw it at the balcony, watching it fall on the grass of the garden beneath us.

I go to the balcony and stare at the view. It was beautiful; America must be lucky to see this kind of scenery every day. Flowers dotting the bushes; sparkles of dew sliding off grass every morning and a mesmerizing sunset to end your day.

A man walks through the garden: Maxon.

Excited, I run down the stairs and pass through the doors that lead to the palace gardens. I wanted to see him and without that scum— I mean, America getting in my way, I can have him all for myself.

I follow him through the green maze and my steps are gentle on the grass. I hide behind the tall bushes, wanting to spy on him before I reveal myself.

He sees two shrubs, one with red roses, and the other with blue. His hand twitches, motioning toward the blue ones, before forcing his hand to pick a red one instead. He stares at it, trying his best to soak its beauty in. His face fills with fear and disgust and he drops the fragile flower, stepping on it before he reaches for a blue rose petal. I only notice now that he was holding a small book. It was old and the cover was made of leather. He opens the book to a random page and presses the 5 blue flower petals inside.

I must be crazy. Why do I feel hurt after watching him reject a red rose for a blue one?

He walks forward and I see a bench. He sits and stares at the sky, thinking about something apparently. His lips move and a soft tune comes from his lips. He's humming.

The song sounds sad, desperate and filled with love. I sit down behind the bush, avoiding myself from disturbing him. Listening to the song makes me feel weak; I never knew he had such a nice voice.

A memory pops into my mind. The Women's room, a stage, the Italians are partying... America's playing her violin.

My chest tightens. I remember this song— this is the exact song America played with her violin. I remember how Maxon looked at her with so much adoration, compassion and love. He looked so weak yet so happy at the time, like he was dreaming.

That was one of those rare times I glared at America, one of those rare times when I would let jealousy take me in its arms and possesses me.

I turned back and run away; zigzagging through the plants I stepped on. "Kriss!" he shouts, standing up and leaving the book on the bench. I stop in place, my heart racing. I hear his footsteps come closer and my instincts force me to run away. I was so eager to see him, so why am I running right now?

"_GET OUT!" _I remember the look in his face; it was like his final thread of sanity was going to snap at any second if I walked any closer.

His hands grab me by the shoulders and he turns my body to his direction. His eyes are at level with mine and I see my reflection in that beautiful brown color. I make a small squeak when he suddenly hugs me, patting my head softly.

His whispers were soft and meaningful as they enter my ears. "My dear," he says, making me feel warm all over. "I'm sorry. I'm so... so sorry for hurting you. And as a sign of my sincere apology—" He sweeps his hand across his forehead. "There, America is out of my mind," he sweeps it across his chest this time, "and my heart."

_Is it? You can't get over someone after just one night._

I tell myself to stop being so negative and to take this chance and make whatever lies that come out of his mouth true.

I cup his cheek in the palm of my hand gently, soaking in each syllable of what he said. I touch my heart and place my hand on his forehead, then his chest. "There..." I whisper. "Now, I will be the one in your heart."

"I'm glad you are," he says, not letting go of my waist. He runs a hand through my dark hair and he guides it to my chin. He tilts my head up; our lips one move away from connecting.

"Can I kiss you now?" He asks. I feel his breath on my face, warm yet soothing. "I have a pretty good reason to break your first kiss rule."

For a moment, I am dazed, and then I shake my head and laugh. "And what is this reason, if I may ask?"

He looks at me like I already know the answer and he leans in even closer, our chest touching each other and our warmth is replacing each other's each second we stand there.

"Simple," he says, "Because I love you."

His soft lips are on mine and I realize that this is my first kiss. My first kiss is with the man I learned to love. I don't hesitate because I can't bring myself to do so.

I could compare it to dark chocolate, both bitter and sweet.

It was the sweetest moment of my life, the soft touches, and the gentle yet passionate aura coming from him, the harmony and grace of our movements and breaths as we stayed like that.

It felt incomplete though, like he was holding back. That's what made it bitter. It was like the more I gave myself, the more he would resist and push himself away. I went to the deepest corner of my mind and there I wrapped, sealed, lock and buried that thought where I could never think of it ever again.

He lets go of me and I could've sworn he was turning green. "I'm sorry." He says, "I just need to catch my breath."

I see a dark figure behind the trees; his eyes are looking at me, betrayal showing in his entire face. The man quietly climbs a rope I only notice now; a knife was in his hands in a desperate desire to haunt me.

I touched my lips and Maxon's hands are on my arms. My chest is rising and falling quickly; my entire body is quivering in fear. I notice that I'm not breathing.

"God, w-what did I just—? H-He found out. W-What am I going to—?" I mumble, my voice trembling.

Maxon looks at me in the eye with the deepest compassion. "What's wrong, my dear?" He asks. "Did I do anything to make you feel uncomfortable? If I did, I humbly apologize—" He's too worried about me to notice a man climbing out of the palace walls so easily.

A voice plays in my head. _"Kriss, you are forbidden to fall in love with him. All I want you to do is to win his crown. Then, you will give it to me. Do you understand?"_

I shake myself out of his arms, cutting him off. "N-No..." I whisper, not to answer Maxon's question, but contradict the person in my past that haunts me. "Y-You didn't do anything wrong." I say, turning to Maxon this time but not looking at him in the eye. I clutch my chest, wanting to be taught how to breathe again. "I-I'm just..."

Terrified, I do not tell him.

I put on a weak smile on my face and...

"M-Max—"...pretend to collapse on the floor.

My eyes closed, still conscious, I feel Maxon lift me in his arms, calling my name, telling me to wake up.

_I'm sorry,_ I think. _I just want to go back to my room. I don't want to walk or even breathe right now, especially when guilt is trying to break me like a million tiny needles being punctured into my skin. I'm going to get you hurt Maxon. He __**saw**__ us and I'm sure he'll get mad because..._

_... I wasn't supposed to love you._

o-o-o

**Me: Sorry for the short chapter. The next chapters will still be in Kriss's POV. There will be one with Maxon, and maybe Aspen.**

**Oooh... who's the man in the trees? The suspense must be killing you, right? Or maybe something else is killing you? Like maybe...**

**KRISS'S FIRST KISS WITH MAXON!**

**Yeah, I did that. I really, really did. Let the complaining begin!**

**Maybe leave a review and wait for me okay in my new chapter!**

**Bye-Bye!**


	5. Chapter 5

_**Going Back to the One Chapter 5**_

**Me: This is a chapter in multiple POVs. YEAH!**

***plays music* ./' For the First Time in Forever... ./'**

**Happy Reading!**

**Disclaimer – I don't own the book, belongs to the author, Kiera Cass. **

o-o-o

_"We all do things we desperately wish we could undo. Those regrets just become part of who we are, along with everything else. To spend time trying to change that, well, it's like chasing clouds."__  
__―__Libba Bray_

o-o-o

**Aspen's POV ((A/N: No, you didn't read it wrong. It says "ASPEN" in big bold letters.))**

I'm standing by the doors that lead to the greenery of the palace, feeling the warm air on my face. This was my station for the day and because Tanner was... executed, I had to do this shift on my own for now; the other security have been added near the royal family's rooms and the gates.

The sun shines brightly on the grass, reflecting on the dew like tiny crystals. America loved to stay here; you know that girl, you can't keep her isolated in one room forever. She needs fresh air, a wide open space, sunlight shining down her entire body... all she wanted was freedom and she got it.

Once I'm out of this oversized mansion, I'll be with her to experience that same freedom. I put my hand in my pocket and as I clench my fist, a small flat metal plate digs through my skin. I lift it up and raise it like a trophy. The sunlight shines around the penny and my smile reaches the tips of my eyes. I never spent any of her coins. They were all too precious for me to give away. I'm thankful that I became chosen for the draft and became financially stable.

America filled my thoughts, like she always did when I'm not thinking about work or problems. Our times in the tree house, our time at that kid's birthday party and how we danced slowly, even our times in the palace made me smile. Thinking about her is now some sort of crazy addiction.

And I'm not ashamed of it.

I find myself staring and staring at the small coin for such a long time; I wonder why it hasn't melted yet. Since I couldn't take out the picture of the two of us that I had in my pocket, unless I wanted to be caned to death by a "certain prince", this is my only remembrance I can take out without having to feel the fear of getting caught.

"GET OUT OF MY WAY!"

I turn at the sound of someone screaming and the next thing I see is the prince, Lady... Priss, I think, in his arms. He shoves me away with his elbow and the coin makes a small tingling sound as it falls on the ground. My shoulder wound throbs.

He stops and faces me, brown eyes serious. "Officer! Scan the area!" He screams, his legs fidgeting. "Scan the area!" I don't move, still angry at the sad truth that I'm serving the man who broke my girlfriend's heart and cheated on her for 2 other girls.

He suddenly surprises me by stomping on the ground in rage. "What the hell are you doing, officer?! Some stranger just shot Lady Kriss with a dart and got away! Get back up and scan the garden for the intruder!"

I look at the limp body in his arms and only then do I notice the small needle puncturing the girl's right arm. I quickly salute. "Right away, your Highness," I say, grabbing the small black device strapped on with my belt. I start shouting codes, numbers, alerts and names of the other soldiers as I start dashing into the garden. I hear at least 5 pairs of feet marching a little while later, meaning that the others have come.

I make a few turns in the maze of bushes. Left, right, right, left.

I see... nothing.

No unauthorized personnel, no suspicious figures, no intruders, not even a single out-of-place object I could use to track someone down. All I could find were the usual things, benches, plants, bugs...

A man bumps into me.

Another guard.

"Have you found anything?" He asks.

I shake my head. "The others?"

"No luck."

I point behind me. "Let's split up again. You take that side," I point at the opposite direction. "I take this one. Load your guns, shoot anyone only to immobilize them, understand?"

The guard nods and we pivot one heel and start running. I feel the gun on my belt, cold and hard, and clutch it in my hands.

I shoot.

I shoot at the man in a light blue shirt and gray jogging pants. The bullet passes an inch away from his leg, safe from doing him any harm. I take in a few small breaths and exhale loudly, trying to catch up. My bullet wounds, both on my shoulder and side, are now burning and I bite my trembling lip.

The man, his light brown hair wet from perspiration, turns and I pass by the tree where I found America, stuck in it like a small cat being chased by a dog. Once I make a turn...

_Boom._

The man is gripping his arm, trying to get the bullet out. The dusty leather-covered in his mouth is silencing his screams. It's the book America almost showed in front of the entire country.

A book_._

He came all this way and got shot... for a _book?_ I shook my head, fighting the urge to laugh. I point my gun at him, taking away some of the weight in my legs to make sure I can run fast when he tries to escape.

"Drop it if you know what's good for you," I say, putting my index finger a few centimetres from the trigger. My hands still feel foreign when holding a gun.

His gray eyes grow wide and he opens his mouth to drop the book on the grass, whispering a cuss before running again. I grab the book, tuck it in my coat and shoot. He dodges quickly.

He slides down a corner where the corner of palace wall is. I smile softly; he's about to trap himself. The trees cover my view and when I reach the wall, no one's there.

"Impossible," I whisper. There wasn't any opening where he could go to, nor did he have run another way without me seeing him.

I get the book in my pocket, giving it a long look. I have never seen such an ancient book before and now that I think about no one ever did give us any books about the past for some reason.

I slide my hand through the cover and felt my fingers fall on the small rips of the leather. I grab the edge of the cover and before I could open it,

"Leger!" a guard calls. I close the book quickly. "Where's the intruder?" he asks, gun still in hand.

I look to my side, not wanting him to see the face of failure shown across my features. "He escaped," I say softly like a whisper. "He was trying to steal this," I say, waving the book in front of him, "and then he just... disappeared."

"Really? What's in it?" He reaches for the book and I put it behind my back. "No way, we have to get this to the prince." His gun is now strapped to his waist and he gives me a disappointed look.

"Fine," he says.

o-o-o

I mutter a curse under my breath. "It's gone," I say once I get back to my room after returning the book to Your Majesty.

I keep repeating those two words over and over again, sprinkled with a few light expletives. I clean out my pockets repeatedly, trying to look for two things:

1. My penny

2. My photo of America and I

I would've been alright if I just lost the former; I had her entire pile of coins in my cabinet. But, the latter, that was our only photo together. And worse, if someone in the palace would just happen to pick up that photo, Mer and I would be dead. What were we doing in that photo?

Since we had no extra money to print any photographs of us that was the only picture we could get. We took that photo during one of Mer's solo violin performances in front of a house of a family of Threes. The family that paid them enjoyed the performance so much that they were willing to give America any small request. She requested for them to take a picture of her and me, who happened to be watching that night. We stood beside each other and I wrapped my arm around her, pulling her towards me, clasping our free hands. Her head rested gently on my shoulder and my head was bent slightly towards hers. The kind of photo an affectionate couple would take.

"How careless can I get?!" I scold myself, taking off my coat and waving it like a flag. Nothing but pocket lint was excavated in my coat and pants.

It was no use. Fear, shame and distress chopped me into three and they all had one piece each. It wasn't with me. I lost it...

"Calm down, Aspen," I tell myself, "You can find it tomorrow, when you're in duty. Everything will be okay. You won't get caught..."

My soul, a few hints of guilt emanating from it, fills itself with false hope. I know, my logical mind knows, that if I did lose it in the garden, it would be impossible for someone not to find it. The gardeners, security, maids and even the royal family members tend to walk around the place when they have to. I run a hand through my sweaty and tangled hair, my fingers caught in the black mess on my head.

Carrying that dangerous photo around just for the sake of sentiment wasn't really a good idea.

All I have to do is hope that no one finds that photo until the next day. I groan and fall on my bed.

There are times when I just hate myself for making such idiotic decisions I'd soon regret.

o-o-o

**Maxon's POV ((A/N: You may scream now Maxon-lovers.))**

My hands set Kriss carefully back on the soft mattress offered in her room in the hospital wing. The doctor glances at my pale face as she examines Kriss.

"Your Majesty," she says calmly, "she has just been hit with a light tranquilizer dart. Her bloodstream is not that affected and she will regain consciousness after a while. Don't worry."

"Thank goodness," my voice is as calm as my posture: slumped shoulders leaned back on the wall and exhaled worries come out of my breath.

She scribbles some notes on her clipboard and a nurse comes in through the door and curtsies at the sight of me. The doctor gives her a short look at the papers.

"Now, take care of Lady Kriss. She might be our new princess," The doctor joked to the nurse.

Funny. Not because the joke itself was laugh-worthy, it was funny because even if it was said in a jokingly tone, it made me sadder rather than happier like all effective jokes should.

_No Maxon, _I tell myself, _you can't break down here._

I kissed Kriss...

I kissed Kriss...

I really kissed Kriss...

Repeating itself in my head for what I think is the millionth time, the truth that it actually happened makes me feel nauseous and I'm ready to pour out my lunch on her. I did my duty.

I got rid of the girl I love and made out with the girl the king has forced upon me.

I find myself a little disappointed that Kriss was going to be okay.

_Oh, God._

I'm a monster: a sick, heartless and suicidal monster. I'm surprised that such a nice girl like her can love me like that. I'm an idiot; why can't I do the same? Why did I have to love someone who is already in love with someone else? I don't want to lose Kriss, the only girl that has been kind to me since Daphne left.

But I don't want to love someone by default either.

I excuse myself quickly and walk back to the garden, hoping to see the man who shot Kriss with a tranquilizer dart, and to scold the guards who were too careless to even let anyone inside the palace grounds like that. I'm not planning to tell my father, though. I have mercy in my heart and I will not let our palace staffs get killed, metaphorically, in my father's blinding rage.

I see Officer Leger holding Gregory's journal in his hands. I stop myself from pulling it out of his filthy hands. He comes up to me and bows as a sign of respect.

He focuses on a spot behind me and I'm glad he did so. I don't want him to see the pure hatred I have in my eyes.

"We failed capturing the intruder Your Majesty," he says softly. "Though we retrieved this," he holds up the journal, "and the intruder managed to escape. Sincere apologies, Your Majesty."

I force myself to not roll my eyes at him. I accept the journal and hide it in my coat. "Thank you very much Officer Leger. You may now leave."

"Leave?" He asks. "But I'm still on—"

"I'm going to get you transferred someplace else," I feel the coldness of my voice, the coldness I inherited from my father. "because it seems the you are incapable of doing something as simple as running after a trespasser, which is what almost all of guards do regularly. How am I supposed to trust you when rebels come? You can't expect that a simple apology will be able to cover it when someone important is injured because of your flaws."

Embarrassment becomes apparent in his cheeks and I fight back a smile. "Now, you will be positioned at Lady Celeste's room," I say it like it's the worst punishment I could ever give him, "and I will make sure to inform Officer Markson so that changes will be followed at this very moment. You may now go."

His fists clench and unclench around his gun and I am not afraid. "Very well Your Majesty." He says his voice strained. He walks past me and leaves my line of vision. I hear a few cusses and I snort lightly.

Nothing could be worse than having to be near someone sickeningly flirtatious like Celeste.

_And yet I enjoyed her kiss..._

I shudder at the thought and shake my head. No, I didn't enjoy it. I didn't enjoy how after I let myself smile and open my eyes I saw a red-headed girl run away, painful tears falling down her face because of me.

The urge to punch the wall again came to me in a split second. I stare at my gauzed hands. Is it going to be worth hurting myself once more?

The door of the garden is open. I see a small twinkle of light on the ground under a shrub. Curious, I put on foot after another and bent down when I get near it. A small bronze coin reflects the light of the sun. I pick it up. A penny. How peculiar for this to be here. I am about to pick it up when I see a piece of paper farther beneath the shrub. Gently, I reach for it and pull it out. The paper was a bit thicker than the normal book paper and it was glossier: photo paper.

I wiped off the bits of dirt off the white side and turn it around. I almost crumple the photo in my hands.

In the small rectangle was a couple in front of the background of an elegant golden curtain. A man with jet black hair and emerald green eyes, a Six, in my opinion, cuddling with a girl with the head of red hair and blue eyes I know all too well. The look in her eyes seems familiar so gentle, so sweet, as so, so loving...

And then it hits me.

The way she smiled when she took a picture for the Selection, the way her eyes sparkled and the way her lips reached the tips of her eyes. This is the man who was to thank for making this girl so happy.

The fact it wasn't me freezes my heart until it burns from the cold.

"I already knew..." I say out loud, voice breaking. "I already knew that that person was the exact man I trusted to protect you. Ever since I caught you meeting with Leger in that abandoned room in the middle of the night, I already knew. That's the reason I had to let you leave."

I threatened to rip the picture apart, hoping that torn pieces of paper on the dirt may make me feel lighter in the chest. But, I don't want to ruin such a beautiful face. Instead, I tucked it in my pocket and make my way to my room, wanting to hug my pillows and go to bed.

When I reach the hallway heading towards my room, a guard, Leger, stops me.

Annoyed by his existence I ask, "I thought your new post was at Lady Celeste's door? Did you leave your post just to block my way?"

He keeps his emotionless expression on. "No sir." He says. "I am here to say that the king has requested your presence in his study."

My spine becomes rigid. I nod. "Of course, thank you." I pivot on one heel and leave him when he holds my shoulder. I turn to his direction, raising an eyebrow. "Do you have something else to say?" I ask. I didn't think it was possible but I would rather be with my father right now than be here with Leger any longer than a few seconds.

"Actually Your Majesty, I do." I can sense the hatred in his voice as well. It was very much like the distaste I have for him. At least we have something in common. "Your Highness has entrusted me to escort you to his study myself."

"Fine." I say, avoiding any form of bickering. We keep a 5 feet distance from each other with him leading the way.

The next few minutes are silent and filled with peripheral tension. I notice that his eyes regularly scan the floor, like he's looking for something. The shape of the photo is burning in my pants. A guilty feeling subsides in me when I realize I'm not intending to give the photo back to him anytime soon.

I reach my father's door and Leger leaves, giving me a sense of relief.

"Thank you for your hard work, Officer Leger."

"The pleasure's all mine, Your Majesty."

I don't even know him that well but I do know that none of us are telling the truth.

I open the door and my father is waiting for me on his chair, legs crossed and chin in his hands.

"Hello son." He says. "Take a seat."

I choose the seat on his right and he sets his hands on his desk.

"Now, about the Selection," he starts. Just as I expected, he wants to talk about his contest even though he knows what I'm going through right now. "Your choices are now narrowed down to three wonderful ladies."

Yeah, three wonderful ladies: a girl who is here just because she has a useless connection with New Asia, another girl who is corrupt and overly seductive for her own good and another girl who is forced upon me just because the people love her when in reality she is nothing but a weakling.

They really deserve to be called wonderful.

"...one month to choose." Those four words are the only ones I catch. My eyes grow wide and my pupils shrink.

"_O-One month?!_" I repeat. "You expect me to choose one of them in four weeks?"

"Yes," he answers like it was obvious. "Besides, your only choice is already laid out in front of you, right?" His voice is demanding and cruel.

"Father, I understand but—"

He cuts me off. "Maxon," he says sternly, eyebrows furrowed and teeth gritted, "we can't keep this competition going on any longer. Rebel attacks have been getting worse by the day and they are targeting the remaining Elite. Do you really want them to live here in danger just because you have a hard time choosing a new wife? Princes are not supposed to be selfish, Maxon."

There it is, another lesson that he can't even apply on himself.

"Where do you think I learned my selfishness from?" I want to say to him.

"Understood, father," I say instead. I stand up and nod in acknowledgement.

I grab the doorknob and turn it slowly. I freeze as he calls my name.

"I know what you're thinking Maxon. Remember, I spared the life of the traitorous Five you fell in love with; I was supposed to have her killed with her little boyfriend in the palace but I didn't. Therefore, you have absolutely no reason to call me selfish. Because I am not."

_No, you're not. You're just awfully cruel..._

I open the door and leave.

o-o-o

**Kriss's POV**

My eyelids flutter open and all I see are white walls and a nurse by my bed, arranging the bottles of medicine for me. I sit up and I feel my arms tremble. My hands give up and I fall back on the bed. The sound from the impact startles the nurse and she notices I'm awake.

I feel so dizzy that when she talks, I can only make out a few words.

"...tranquilizer ...Majesty ...rest ..."

I was injected with a tranquilizer? I must've been so anxious to pretend to faint that I didn't realize that I was shot with a tranquilizer dart. So that's why I feel so calm all of a sudden. Only one person I know would use something like a tranquilizer...

The nurse helped me sit up and a dark brown tablet was in her palm and a glass of water was in another. "Here," she says, her voice clear to me now. "Drink this. It will help ease the headache."

I nod weakly, even that takes effort, and almost drop the glass as I swallow the tablet down with water. I lie back down and the nurse excused herself so she can get my dinner. Dinner? How long have I been unconscious? I glance at the clock.

6:30 pm

I've been asleep for 5 hours and I'm so bone-achingly tired I want to double that time.

Silvia comes in through the door without knocking, an envelope in hand. "Lady Kriss!" she says, relief in her voice. "Thank goodness you're awake. I have a letter for you. Do not fret. I didn't open it for that would be a rude invasion of privacy." She sets the letter in my hands.

"Now, I have to go. I have a lot of work to do. Get well soon Lady Kriss." With that, she was already out the door.

Without getting up, I tear open the envelope slowly and take out the piece of paper. The address was smudged, on purpose, and the writing was awfully familiar.

I unfolded the light brown paper and I almost have a heart attack.

_**Lady **__Kriss,_

_It seems to me that you had a lot of... fun during your stay in the castle. Be that as it may, you have to remember, you were put in that palace for one reason and one reason only: TO WIN THE CROWN. But what did you do? You think I didn't see you kissing that *****? I told you to seduce him, Kriss. Not the other way around! If my father finds out he will have you persecuted. _

_I will not inform him of your stupidity... yet I will give you another chance. _

_Get me Gregory's journal. I am unable to do because the last time I tried, which was earlier after I watched you make out with an idiot, I got shot. The prince trusts you. Abuse that trust and get me that journal. It's the leather book he keeps carrying all the time. I'll go to the secret opening in the garden every Saturday for the next month in order to get it from you. You have one month Kriss. You have one month to get me that journal. If you don't... we'll have to do it for you. It may involve a little killing of certain blonde heads or maybe an entire family of people wearing crowns. _

_You are a rebel Kriss. _

_Never forget that._

_ Watching you always,_

_ C. W._

I rip the letter to pieces and crumple them to one ball and toss it in the trash bin next to my bed. One piece flies off the ball and floats down the floor. Written on it is one word. One word that will certainly be my own downfall:

_Rebel_

I try to reach it and end up falling on the ground. My eyes are blurry with tears and I pick up the paper and throw it in the bin. My legs are like jelly; I cannot stand up even if I tried. I grab the end of the table and I bring myself up, failing and making the glass of water fall and pour its contents on me.

The nurse comes back after 10 minutes and almost drops the tray of food. She sets the tray on the floor and runs to me, asking what happened. She carries me on her shoulders and I'm endlessly coughing into her clothes.

I'm drenched and shivering, sick and dizzy, yet none of these pains can compare to the guilt clutching me on the neck.

I am a rebel. I am a traitor.

I am a traitor to the man I love.

o-o-o

**End of Chapter! Hope you all liked it!**

**I'm very sorry but I won't be updating in maybe 2-3 weeks? One month tops. No, I still have ideas but I have examinations, then the turnover and prom. I won't have time. When it's summer vacation I'll be able to update. Wait for me okay guys? And maybe... leave a review?**

**Anyway, I will never abandon this story. It's just that... well, school stuff and junk.**

**So, see you in a few weeks!**

**Bye guys! Love you all!**

**Preview of Chapter 6:**

_**~ I was born a leader. I have the potential, the smarts, the experience... and yet that girl just had to take my position away. Just because she had some crummy Italian princess on her side. She took away my dream. She took away the reason I was born into this messed up country with this messed up system.**_

_**And I'm taking it back, no matter how beautiful she is. ~**_

**POV is still a secret so anyway... bye! (Wow, how times have I said that?) **


	6. Chapter 6

_**oing Back To the One Chapter 6:**_

**Me: Okay, I know I said that we'd have more chapters before we go back to America but I thought, why not make the things that happened behind the scenes a surprise? I'll get closer to the good parts right away, so that's what I'm going to do.**

**Disclaimer – Don't own the book, the author does because if I owned the book, I would have let "The One" out already. I JUST WANT TO READ IT ALREADY.**

**Happy Reading! **

**Warning: Slight violence**

o-o-o

**America's POV**

_2 weeks later…_

Fran is the worst guitar player I have ever come across.

And that…

"Ms. Singer, what's the strumming pattern again? Is it up, down, up, down? Or up, up, down, d— oops. Don't worry, I'll pay for it."

…is an understatement.

I sigh for what I think is the 100th time as I grab another spare string in my bag. Ever since I've started teaching her, I've been buying guitar strings by the box. It's expensive; how lucky am I that the school gives me some money for the instruments.

One of the hands of my watch move as each second passes by. 2:30 pm. After my practice class, the scholar class became my official class, along with a few other levels. With only five 50 minute classes, I should've been at home by 2:00 pm. So why am I having overtime?

Ask the black-headed girl next to me, trying to remove the string she just split. Everyone in class has already memorized _both _the major and minor chords. Most of them can play some simple songs now. Fran here has only learned how to play the chords. And she can't even seem to master strumming.

With a group performance next week, she had to learn as much as she can so that her group mates won't kill her. Now I'm here tutoring her after receiving thousands, no, _millions _of pleads from her big mouth.

"No, that's not how you play the G chord." I say, moving her fingers to the right strings. "That chord you're doing doesn't even exist." I joke.

She giggles. "It's what I call _improv._" I shake my head at her. I hated to admit it but this girl has grown on me and we get along so well, probably because our ages were only 4 years apart. "So, as I fix this, tell me about the last time you were on the report." She says.

I roll my eyes at her. "I told you, it was just a book." I may be annoyed with her constant questioning, but I'm thankful. Now I'm not so uncomfortable talking about the Selection; well, as long as I'm not talking about _him._

"If it was _just a book_," she makes air quotes in the air with one hand as the other tightens the peg of the guitar, "then why did they suddenly cancel your report? Too bad though. I would've taken the idea of removing the caste system in consideration."

"It's…" I open the dictionary in my mind to think of a word. "…_confidential_," was the best I could think of.

"If it was confidential, then why—"

"_Why on earth did I almost show it to the entire country?"_ I ask myself, finishing her sentence. "Yeah, I've received that question too many times before. I didn't _know _that I wasn't supposed to show it to public. Besides, I was so desperate in making a good report. I crammed everything in a few days. What was I supposed to do?"

"You're such great role model Miss Singer." Fran says. I can hear the playful sarcasm in her voice.

"I'm serious Ms. Fran." I start, trying to change the subject. "We need you to become used to transitions of chords as you play. How do you expect to pass my class if you're acting like that? And most importantly," I snicker before I continue. "How are you going to impress Jack if you're like that?"

I can almost imagine the steam coming from her warming cheeks. "M-Miss Singer!" She yells, "For the last time I don't—!" I laugh and she covers her face with her hands. When she peeks between her fingers and sees me _still _laughing, she turns away and whimpers.

I adjust the strap of my own guitar and put my fingers on the strings slowly so she can see them. I strum slowly. Up. Down. Up. Down. "Anyway," I say, panting a little because of laughing for so long. "You don't have to strum so hard because your music will sound more like a dying cat." I emphasize my point by putting more force in my strum, creating a loud, unpleasing sound.

She covers her ears. "See," I exclaim. "It doesn't sound very good."

The door opens slowly and a pair of gold eyes peeks at us. I notice Fran remove her hands from her face and she turns redder than she was before. She hides her cheeks under her lyric sheets so she can hide more of her face.

I motion for the boy by the door to come in. "Jack, you're late." I scold. "You were supposed to be here 30 minutes ago."

He bows his head and ruffles his hair. "Sorry Mam. I went home the minute the bell rang and I only remembered the lesson a few minutes after my very, _very _long nap." He says as he walked towards the guitar racks and grabbed his navy blue wooden guitar among the others. Fran gasped quietly as Jack plopped himself on her desk, his back facing her. He twisted so he was looking at her and he patted her head.

"You still don't know how to play the first verse?" He asked, staring at her lyrics sheets.

Fran looked away and hid her eyes under her wavy hair. "Yeah, what of it? You're probably regretting of having I as your partner, aren't you? Don't blame me; blame the stupid lots." Jack looks taken back with her comment.

I remain quiet.

The boy shakes his head. "Of course not," He insists, "you just need a little help." He jumps off the desk and sets his guitar carefully on the floor. He is suddenly standing behind Fran with his hands on her shoulders. His look catches mine. "Am I right, Ms. Singer?"

I smile and nod. "Yes, you're absolutely right." I lean back and see Zeny waving at me through the door's window. I give her a thumbs-up, telling her I'll be right there.

I watch the two and my lips form a smile. It seems wrong for me to wish Fran luck, especially at her age but… what's wrong with cheering her on?

"I have to go. Just keep on practicing." I say. Before they say goodbye, I go out the door and try to contain my squeals as I walk towards Zeny.

o-o-o

**Fran's POV**

My neck hurts so much I almost can't bear it, which is odd since I'm supposed to be used to it. I can't let anyone see the marks so I'm wearing a turtleneck today.

Jack bends forward so he is on the same level as my head. I feel his warm breath on my neck as he snaps me back to reality. He leans closer and puts his hands over mine, which were grabbing the guitar. He moves his fingers so his and mine are over the other. He puts them on the right strings. He takes hold of my other hand and motions it up and down. I feel the strings slide through my fingers.

The way he held my hands and guided them was gentle and felt almost… natural. From one chord I moved my fingers to make another with not much difficulty as I used to. I hear singing.

I hear _him _singing.

"_**Take me to your heart" **_

His voice is smooth and soft as he strums the guitar for me. My face is burning and my heart is beating with an emotion I don't even recognize.

"_**Show me where to start…  
Let me play the part of your first love"**_

He finishes his part and he pauses when he notices I remain silent. "Hey," he says. "It's your turn." I wake up from my daze and I mumble an, "Oh, okay," and my arms are still moving in his.

"_**All the stars are bright, every wish is ours tonight…"**_

My voice is high-pitched yet low enough to be able to sing the song well. The next line we sing it together. My heart is beating too fast and I'm feeling like I have gone insane. I have only known the guy for a few days and yet I'm being paired up with him already.

"…_**My love"**_

What can I possibly like about him anyway? He's a loud idiot who does nothing but joke around during discussions and mess around when we have to do something important. The sad truth is that he's better at me in other subjects, especially math. At least I'm better at him in athletics. I can't be friends with him. I can't make any friends at all. I can't be close to anyone I'm about to betray…

"See, you're playing on your own now." He says. I look down and finally notice the absence of his hands on mine. I still feel the shape and shadow of his touch as I keep on strumming. Oh no, I've started to play normally. I can't do this; I have to make sure I have an excuse to spend time with Miss Singer.

"I-Is that so?" My stuttering is giving me away. I pretend to forget my timing and end up playing the wrong chords at the wrong time. "Oops, sorry."

"What are you talking about? You're even better than I am." His golden eyes are shining with awe and amusement. "With a little more practice, you'll be a pro." He grabs my hands again and he starts tutoring me. I smile and shake off the negative feelings.

His chin is on my neck now. "Ouch!" I cringe and almost drop my wooden instrument. Jack moves back and he quickly apologizes. "I'm sorry," he says. "Was I too heavy?"

I lightly rub my neck, the pain from it ceasing. "N-No," I mutter. "It's not your fault." I put my finger under the fabric that covers my neck and stretch it only a bit, so he won't see.

What a failed attempt…

"W-What happened to you?!" He leans in closer and examines the red marks that cover my throat. He must be disgusted. I know I am. The other bruises have turned into an unpleasant looking purple and when combined with the swollen skin it looks much more repulsive than it is painful. He moves his hand to touch it, twitches and decides not to. I pull up my collar even though it's no use anymore.

He saw what he saw.

"N-Nothing," I say as an answer, standing up. "I'm going home."

As I make my way to the door, I feel his hand around my arm. "What do you mean it's _nothing_?" he asks. "Who did this to you?"

I swallow hard as I feel the tension forming around us. "None of your business," I replied, pulling his grip from me.

"Is someone bullying you?" Stupid meddler asks. I turn to him and give him a glare that I hope will make him realize that I don't want to talk about it.

"No one in school is bullying me." I say, preparing to run towards the door. As much as it pains me, I'd rather be at home then see him having a single clue to what goes on in my home.

Correction: …a single clue to what goes on in my _house. _

I can't even consider it as a place for my family to bond in. It's nothing more than a building that protects me from the sun and rain.

"Then someone at home is hurting you?" he asks. "Are you being abused by your parents?"

_No, I'm being abused by my __**parent.**_

He walks closer and I stop breathing. _Darn it. _

I get mad at myself for being silent for more than a few seconds. It's like I'm admitting it. I realize that there's no use denying it.

But I can ignore talking about it.

"Like I said," I do my best to make my voice ice-cold. "It's none of your freaking business."

My feet freeze me in place. Why can't I move? The door is right in front of me. Why can't I reach it?

A shiver travels through my entire system as a pair of hands settles on my shoulders. His eyes are pleading. They're pleading so I can let myself in. "You can talk to me," he says compassionately, "we're friends, right?"

The best reaction would be to smile and say thanks to his friendly gesture. I would love to do that.

Instead, I raise a skeptical eyebrow at him. _"Friends?"_ I repeat the word in complete shock and disbelief. "We've been classmatesfor only like a few weeks. That doesn't make us friends."

"Of course it does," he rebutted. I notice that he stopped walking and that he has finally respected my personal space.

"No it doesn't," I insist. "Our relationship is strictly limited to being project partners and I don't feel comfortable about sharing my family problems to a guy I barely even know. I don't even know your last name. Now if you mind, I just want to go home—"

"Just to get hurt again? Why don't you tell an adult? Get help."

"I'm not _allowed _to get help. Please stop acting like the meddling prince that broke our teacher's heart and leave me alone!" I shout before I dash towards the door.

Jack is in front of me. Wait, how did he get there so fast?

His arms are raised laterally, blocking my way. How childish. I move left and right, trying to find an opening. It was no use. As quick as I am, the boy playing with me is too close to the door for me to open it. He gets a grip on my wrists and pushes me lightly on the wall.

It didn't hurt me one bit but it was enough for me to remember what happened last night.

o-o-o

_Flashback:_

_I was used to the dark. My house never had electricity when we needed to that's why I was surprised that my brother found a way to get me my own guitar to make an impression to my new teacher. They probably stole it._

_The fire on the wick of a small candle was the only illumination in the "living room". It danced around without a care in the world, so busy with its own self joy that it won't notice when someone will suddenly put it out._

_Like me for example. I've been so caught up with being a normal student again. I only got into school again this month and it's almost Christmas. We were always too poor to afford anything that's why all my clothes were hand me downs from my brother._

_Yes, from my brother._

_The fact that I could study again was so overwhelming I forgot that I still had a mission to do._

_My father noticed how I was slacking and that night, he was going to make sure to give me a "reminder" that I would never forget._

_He was drunk; it was obvious from the reek of alcohol coming from his clothes. I was strumming my guitar on the mat I call my bed. The truth was I was an expert in playing; I've been self-studying ever since I got it. I'm better than my classmates really._

"_Fran," he calls me, his voice gurgling. "What the hell are you doing?!"_

_His presence suddenly scared me, disturbing me from my playing as I scooted closer to my bag. Just in case._

"_P-Practicing… f-for school…" I blurted out. I shouldn't have stuttered._

_He __**hates **__stuttering._

_He got ahold of the old table beside him and threw it aside. "All you ever do if study!" he yells, making my ears pound. "You're spending too much time doing unimportant things like book-learning. Have you got even a __**single **__clue from that damn teacher of yours?"_

_I shake my head as quickly as I regret it. "It's only been a few days, father." I manage to get out. "I need more time and maybe—"_

_I dodge the glass bottle he threw to the wall near my face. "So you're saying I haven't been giving you enough time?!" he explodes. "I'm not an efficient parent? Is that it?"_

_I'm shaking now. "N— T-That wasn't—" _

"_You want to go back to that mother of yours?!"_

"_B-But—"_

_He turns away from me and punches the wall, silencing me. I watch his knuckles bleed. "You don't need time…." He says coldly. "You just need to be disciplined…"_

_I stand up as fast as I can and sling my bag over my shoulder. It doesn't make it to my shoulder._

_My father darted toward me, slamming me against the wall as I let out an ear bleeding scream. His hands are gripping my throat and it is slowly being drowned in a thick red liquid. My mouth opens but no words come out; instead all I hear are gasps and strained sounds filled with my own fear. _

_I… I can't… I can't __**breathe**__… it hurts, it hurts so badly…_

_Help me… help me please…_

_I try to scratch his fingers and get them off me but that only makes him choke me even stronger. Spots fill the edges of my vision because of the tears that are forming and the fact that I'm about to collapse. _

_I feel myself rising from the ground and my back being pushed down harder on the cold wall. I'm crying now, which is stupid. I'm just wasting the energy I could've used for trying to keep breathing._

_The door slams open and all I could hear was my brother screaming. My father's hands are away from my throat and I'm desperately gasping for the air I've been deprived of for what feels like a few hours, which in truth were a few minutes. My brother caresses me in his arms and my breathing is short and painful as I feel my clothes rub on my skin. _

_Pure torture._

_End of Flashback…_

o-o-o

I'm breathing the same way I was breathing last night: hard and quickly. I'm hyperventilating because of a memory.

How pathetic.

Jack lets go of me and holds at arm's length on the shoulders this time. "F-Fran? Are you okay?"

I don't answer him. I'm sorry.

I'm too busy being _not _okay to answer his question.

"Tell me what's wrong," he says, his hand moving towards me. I feel his hand on my cheek and in a split-second I slap it away.

He grasps his reddish hand and I gasp at what I have done.

"I-I'm so—"My voice is breaking. Why did I have to be such a scarred coward?

"No," the seriousness in his voice stuns me. "Don't apologize. I'm sorry for prying."

I nod my head and walk towards the door until he grabs my shoulder, _again._

What the— I thought he was going to let me leave!

He talks to me but I don't look at him.

"But I'm not sorry for wanting to help you. Please, talk to me. I can be your friend. All those problems, you can throw them all at me. I don't care if we're not that close. I want us to be. You're an amazing person, smart, pretty, funny. I don't want to see that girl get hurt. I'll keep everything you tell me a secret. I promise. You don't even have to talk. You can cry on me all day for all I care. Just give me a chance and I—"

I can't take it anymore. I let the tears fall and jump right into his arms. I'm sniffing into his shirt and he doesn't seem to care. Well, he shouldn't. He _did _tell me to do it. He pats my head and I feel a rush of comfort run through me and I suppress a grin.

After a few minutes of crying and sad silence, he speaks.

"Avenue," he says.

"Huh?" I wipe my swollen eyes.

"That's my last name, Avenue."

"Oh," I mutter.

I hide a small giggle under my fist. I just made a new friend.

And his name is Jack Avenue.

o-o-o

**America's POV**

Zeny leads me to the conference room. It's a wide white-walled room with a large table in the middle, surrounded by round black seats. There was an elevated platform in front of it where a white screen stood. It was used for PowerPoint presentations.

This room served as a venue for the annual teacher's meeting every Monday.

But it was a Tuesday and that made me anxious. What reason did the principal have to call us on a meeting on a Tuesday?

I take a seat beside Zeny and another teacher I have never met probably because he was from the lower bed department.

The room was noisy, like a classroom ironically. When outside the classroom, teachers were normally even louder than students. They sure had much more stories to tell each other.

And like a normal class, everyone went silent when the principal went inside. She was kind of like an older version of Silvia; the disciplinary aura was in her as well. Her hair was tied into a very tight and stiff bun, not a hair out of place. She normally wore a brown blazer and a matching skirt that reached a few inches below the knees. The glasses she wore were black and round, perfectly professional.

She sat in the capital. I noticed that her bun was not as stiff as it normally was. It swayed a few times while she walked. She was wearing an orange scarf around her neck, giving her outfit a splash of bright color. Her glasses were tucked in her blazer's pocket.

This could only mean one thing: she was in a good mood.

I gave her a good look from head to toe. This only happened once in a blue moon, according to Zeny and I have only experienced this only now.

"Good morning fellow agents in providing wonderful education to our dedicated students." She says her voice 1% bubblier than usual. "I have wonderful news for you all."

She points at the screen where the country emblem was being projected. "We have a special visitor this Thursday."

Questions arose, guesses on who the visitor was filled the room, echoing on the walls.

Zeny nudges me on the arm. "Who do you think it is?"

I shake my head. "How am I supposed to know?"

The principal claps her hands to quiet everyone down. "Now everyone settle down. You will all find out who the visitor is after a brief introduction."

The screen is now showing the school 9 years ago. I see King Clarkson cutting the ribbon on the school's opening ceremony. I remember that day. I never got to see the Royal family because of the large crowd in front of me.

The principal continues. "Now nearing its 10th year, the school is welcoming the son of the family who made this school become a reality."

Zeny hands me a cup of water and I see the worried look on her face. I accepted the cup and she covered her mouth. Maybe she was coughing? I take a sip of the drink.

"He is none other than our future ruler and heir to the throne, Prince Maxon!"

I cough and shower Zeny with my drink. I close my eyes and hit my chest repeatedly, trying to remove the sore feeling after almost choking.

I open my eyes and see everyone's stares being directed toward me. My whole face is warm, even the tips of my ears are steaming. The principal glances at me, looking amused. Zeny is biting her fist, suppressing her laugh.

The new world was about to fall apart just as I was getting used to it.

I bury my face in my hands and Zeny pats my shoulder.

The prince is coming _here_?

I let out a groan.

_What am I going to do?_

o-o-o

**Me: Questions that need to be answered:**

**1. Who is Fran?**

**2. Is this really just a visit from the school's founder's son? Or something more?**

**3. What will happen on Thursday?**

**4. What **_**IS **_**America going to do?**

**5. What will MAXON do?**

**All this will be answered in the next chapter. But this doesn't necessarily mean I'll be posting it on Thursday. Reviews are nice.**

**I'll be updating my other stories okay?**

**See you in the next chapter!**

**EDIT: P.S. DO YOU WANT TO FIND OUT WHY MAXON TOLD AMERICA HE LOVES KRISS IN THE NEXT CHAPTER? HE'LL STILL MEET AMERICA EITHER WAY IN THE NEXT CHAPTER! ANSWER PLEASE! THANK YOU!**


	7. Chapter 7

_**Going Back To The One Chapter 7**_

**Me: Hi! Here's the chapter everyone's been waiting for! MAXON SEES AMERICA!**

**This is **_**INSANELY LONG **_**I had no idea how I managed writing it.**

**And… this is the probably the chapter where everyone will now go back to the old days and buy some torches and pitch forks and stalk me and find my address just so you guys can kill me. **

**Why, you ask?**

**You have to read and find out!**

**Disclaimer – I don't own the Selection Trilogy, it belongs to the wonderful Kiera Cass!**

o-o-o

**America's POV**

_~Wednesday morning~_

"For the _12th _time," I tell May who was loudly fidgeting on her chair as I brushed her hair. "The fact that Prince Maxon is coming to my workplace today is _not _bothering me."

She looks up at me and I raise my wooden brush. The look in her eyes make me let out a sigh. "Please, _please_ don't tell me you're still not convinced."

She shakes her head, giving me a solid, "Nope." She swings her legs under the chair. "It's not like a few years have passed since you left the palace. In fact, you haven't even surpassed a whole month. Are you sure you have forgotten Maxon by now?"

"I have a fiancé, May."

"I only have two things to say to you. One, you didn't answer my question and two; Aspen won't be out of the draft for _4_ _years_. Don't tell me you're willing to wait that long."

I mess the hair I've been brushing and May's lips form a pout. "That's just what happens when you're in love." I stare at my hand and imagine a gem on a gold band encircling one of my fingers. "You don't care how long the story goes, as long as you know you'll get your happily ever after in the end."

"That is so sweet." She coos. "I can't wait to find love like that." She stares at the ceiling dreamily.

"Don't you even think about it." I pinch her nose, hoping that the romantic image she's forming in her mind would disappear. "Maybe when you're of legal age."

"Ouch!" She winces and rubs her nose. "But that seems unfair. You and Aspen got together when you were 15."

"You're _14_."

"So I can get a boyfriend when I turn 15?"

I try to think of a rebuttal when a new voice comes through our bedroom door. "_Who's _going to get a boyfriend?" it asks.

May and I swallow hard.

It was Dad.

"N-No one!" May stutters. "I don't like any of the boys my age anyway." She raises her shoulders and gives Dad an unconvincing grin.

Dad lets out a fake sigh of relief. "Good, I still have one single daughter left." He laughs and we join him a minute later. I notice 4 envelopes he's holding behind his back.

May asks about it before I do. "Dad, what's that?" She asks, pointing at his hand.

He fans himself with the envelopes. "Oh these? These are letters from the palace." He answers. "They're for you, America."

I stand up quickly and snatch the letters from his hands. May chases after me and jumps, trying to read the information on the envelopes. "Who are they from? Who are they from?" She asks repeatedly.

I held the envelopes like a set of cards and read the writers of each one.

"They're from Aspen, Mary, Anne and Lucy!" I tell her excitedly.

"Open them!"

She didn't even have to tell me. I grab one end of the envelope and I slowly rip open Aspen's letter and—

My mom comes storming in.

"America Singer!" She yells, her eyebrows furrowed. "It's 7:15! What kind of teacher is late for her own class?!"

"Oh dang, I got to go!" I grab hold of my brown leather backpack and guitar case, tucking the letters in my front bag pocket.

May frowns and whines. "But the letters—!"

"When I get home!" I say, running out the door.

"You better not read any of them without me!"

"Got it!"

"Hurry up!" My mom demands as she pushes me as I walk down the stairs. "The taxi won't lower its tax if you keep it waiting."

I scramble down the stairs and run out the house, the taxi driver waiting beside the open passenger door.

I get in and the driver closes the door.

Once we're driving, I let myself listen to my heart pound in my chest from extreme anxiety. I couldn't look nervous in front of May because she'll know she's right. . Even if he isn't coming until tomorrow, Maxon visiting _is _botheringme.

No, erase that. It's _terrifying _me. What will happen when we see each other? My attitude toward him during our last meeting wasn't so… polite. He's still the prince after all. What if he uses his authority to get back at me?

_Stop being so worried America, _I tell myself quietly. _You love Aspen and he loves Kriss. He probably forgot about you anyway. Everything between you is now reduced to nothing._

_Absolutely nothing._

I insert my hand in my bag's pocket and feel Aspen's letter. A sense of relief calms me as it goes through my body. I want to read it now but it's obvious that May will complain once she finds out. I kiss the tips of my fingers and put them on his letter, secretly hoping that through the oceans and skies that separate us, he'll still feel my love for him.

o-o-o

_~At school~_

"There is nothing in the handbook that says that my students can't practice their recital just because you want them to _'shut the hell up'_." I say, crossing my arms against my chest.

"_My _students are taking a test right now and that hell of a prince isn't enough reason for you to disturb us." The offender replies. "And mocking my voice doesn't change that."

I let out a sigh and lean on the closed classroom door. We only had three days to prepare for a number for the coming of the prince and we only have one day left before we have to go on stage.

Even with the limited time I have, I'm wasting precious minutes on arguing with the school's Math teacher who claims that it is against school rules to disturb one's class with "ugly" and "unnecessary" music.

He's only older than me by 4 years yet his hair is a light gray with brownish tips. He has gray eyes that are filled with anger as they glare into mine. He has always seemed to have an inborn hatred toward me.

_Flashback:_

_~The first time we met, during the teachers' orientation…~_

_I scan the front row for remaining seats. I take the 2__nd__ seat to the right. As I was lowering into that chair, I felt a hand hold me on the shoulder and push me, causing me to land on the chair beside the one I intended to sit on. I almost fell over as I let out a scream. Good thing I gripped the chair and shifted my weight so my feet would touch the floor. I whip my head up see him glaring at me with a huge grin on his face. _

"_I'm sorry, but I really wanted that seat," he says, sitting down beside me._

_I take a deep breath and put on a forced smile. I could feel my eyebrow twitching. "I-It's all yours."_

_~In the hallway~_

_I had a stack of music sheets in my hands that I was supposed to hand out to my students. The pile was almost more than half of my height and I was having trouble balancing it. A piece of paper floats away from the pile and slowly falls on the floor, making its way to Sir Moods' feet. _

"_Can you get that please?" I ask as politely as I could. "My hands are kind of full right now." _

_His eyes trail from the paper on the floor to me. He does that more than three times and his eyes stay on mine._

"_It's __**'may' **__you get that please." He corrects me and just walks._

_He just walks away just like that! How rude!_

_Especially when he steps on the paper, leaving a big dirty footprint on it! And how dare he correct my grammar like that? He's a __**Math **__teacher. Not an __**English **__teacher._

_I take a few steps forward and I slip on the stray music sheet, causing me to fall on my back as I watch the music sheets fall like autumn leaves. _

_I hear his dreaded laugh and I just want to jam all these papers down his throat._

**((A/N: Yes, even teachers bully each other. I can think of much more humorous examples but I have to get back to the story now.))**

_End of Flashback_

The feeling has become mutual.

"For your information, Sir Moods, this recital is a special request from the _principal._" I say. "I am not enjoying this crammed performance any less than you do."

Sir Moods snorts. "Yeah, right." There was a joking tone in his voice that makes me want to strangle him. "You just think that if your precious Prince Maxon sees your _beautiful_," he says the word in the most disgusting way possible, "performance; he'll beg you to come back."

My face is frozen in a shocked expression. The only thing moving on my face is the visible tears forming in my eyes.

He laughs as he sees it and keeps talking. "I guess that's how much you useless women are desperate for money and power. You have no shame don't y—"

A hand slaps him across the face.

Mine.

I watch his left cheek swell and turn into a bright shade of red. It must hurt.

Yet I don't regret a thing.

"You have no right to pry in my personal business Sir Moods." I say coldly. "If you are truly interested I can proudly say that any relationship I had with the prince is all in the past. I don't even think I can count that as I relationship, considering that he is doing the same thing with 34 other girls."

I turn my back on him and open the door. I wipe my eyes and I realize I forgot to say one important detail.

"And by the way," Guilt is visible in his eyes as I talk and I enjoy the sight, "I have a fiancé."

I slam the door behind me and I don't watch him leave. Fran, with a worried look on her face, walks up to me, Jack tailing her.

"Is everything alright Ms. Singer?" she asks.

I plaster a faux grin on my face and nod. "Yes, Fran. How's the last verse coming along?"

She gives me a long hard look, obviously not convinced. She gives her head a light shake and replies, "It's going well. Everyone has gotten the chords right and we have already fixed the voices from Soprano to Alto."

I give her a satisfied pat on the head. "Good work." I pat Jack's head as well. "You too."

"Of course," he says proudly. "Thanks to my skills, Fran's guitar playing doesn't sound like a dying cat anymore." He wraps an arm around Fran's shoulders and he pulls her closer to his side.

Fran's face is pink. "Y-You're mean. My playing wasn't _that _bad. Right?"

"It was!" The rest of the class shouted.

I shake my head and run a tired hand through my face as Fran breaks away from Jack and jumps around, a sign of an incoming tantrum.

"I-I— This is all _your _fault!" She points at Jack, who was backing away slowly.

"How is it _my _fault?" He asks, covering his face from attempted hits from Fran. "Everyone just stated their honest opinion."

I grab the two by the shoulder before they start chasing each other.

"Stop it you lovebirds. We have to practice." I demand, pushing them to their places.

L-Lovebirds?!" Fran exclaims.

The class swoons and squeals as they watch the couple blush together.

I let out a laugh.

I just love this class.

o-o-o

**3****rd**** POV ((This part is a telephone conversation written in script form))**

Caller 1: So, you want us to get her now?

Caller 2: Yes.

Caller 1: But why now?

Caller 2: If we wait until tomorrow, the Prince will arrive and the security will be much harder to get pass.

Caller 1: We haven't found out anything from the girl yet—

Caller 2: That's exactly why we should take her now. We can isolate her and scare her into telling us. And the best part is she'll make excellent bait.

Caller 1: Bait? There's no assurance that the prince still cares about her and—

Caller 2: So what? The prince is human. He has a conscience. He'll feel responsible for her. And besides, he wouldn't want to look selfish in front of the public, now does he?

Caller 1: You have a point. Okay when will you attack?

Caller 2: When? I've already started warming up the troops. So, ready to hold a gun?

Caller 1: We're not killing anyone.

Caller 2: But that's boring…

Caller 1: DAD!

Caller 2: Fine, no killing. You're still going to use those petty darts of yours?

Caller 1: They're _not _petty—

Caller 2: Yeah, yeah. We're on our way. See you later.

_Beep… beep…_

o-o-o

_~That afternoon…~_

**Maxon's POV**

I stare at my own reflection in the mirror. I'm in a hotel room in Carolina and I'm meeting America tomorrow and…

"I'm ready." I tell myself.

I see the crease between my eyebrows and I let out a groan. "I'm _not _ready." I fall on my soft bed and I cover my face with my pillow.

I am ashamed to feel so nervous about having to sit in front of a stage as I watch people perform for me. That's all I had to do besides the long speech my father has written for me.

But one question is slowly killing me.

What will happen when I see _her_?

I did not plan on seeing her. It was completely unintentional. I never thought of getting back something that was never mine.

And now here I am, pacing around my room as I wait for the remaining hours to die.

Damn my father for forcing me to go there. Who cares about his schedule? Who cares if he has trouble trying to convince Italy to reconsider their decision? _He_ was the one who forced me to make America leave.

I take the pillow off my face and examine my knuckles. They have healed after a few days yet the wounds in my heart are still bleeding. I have not made up with Kriss completely yet, even though she insists she has forgiven me. She is so nice that she can even lie to me and get herself hurt.

Why can't I fall in love with someone like her?

I notice a few bumps under my right sleeve so I pull it down. Blue beads that cling on my wrist appear before my eyes. I bite my trembling lip.

This was the gift I got America from New Asia. I never had the chance to give it to her, though. I was too focused on trying to break her heart. I can't even throw it away because of my being too sentimental. I always wear it and no one seems to notice.

I sigh softly. If this was a contest on whose heart hurt more, I'd win hands down.

At least when she got out of the palace someone out there was waiting for her. I believe that she never even tried to love me.

So… in the end, she betrayed me. And I learned about it in the most painful way I can imagine.

_Flashback: (Days before the events of chapter 1)_

_I have always been fond of cameras._

_But now… I completely dread them._

_I have my own surveillance room in the palace near my bedroom. Why? Because of my childhood fear of getting kidnapped once again by rebels, I asked my mother to give me the power to see every room in the palace without my father's knowledge, of course. He knows about this room but he rarely comes in here, saying that this is just my way to "waste my time". I only go in here when I am not too busy, once every month at best, and this day is one of them._

_Each camera (equipped with microphones) in the palace is professionally and efficiently hidden, I don't even notice them myself whenever I take a walk around my home. _

_During days like these, I watch the recorded videos of the past days and see if anything interesting happens. Nothing I watch is actually exciting. It's all guard rotating shifts and maids walking around the palace, serving the Selected._

_I watch these videos all at the same time, shifting my eyes screen per screen._

_Except for today._

_One certain video grabs my attention._

_The video was taken a few days ago, late at night._

_The room in the video is dark, much like this one. The only source of light was the setting sun shining through the window. _

_I hear a few sounds from the corner. I see a man— a guard. I can't make out his face. All I can see is that he is moving the couch and moving pillows and tables._

_The door creaks open and someone walks inside: a girl. _

_My eyes widen and my mouth gapes open._

_As soon as I see that familiar lock of red hair I press a few buttons to make the multiple screens form one image and the room enlarges. _

_I wish that what I experienced was just a case of mistaken identity but it wasn't._

_It was America__**.**_

"_Hello?" She whispers. She closes the door carefully and the man immediately goes closer to her._

_Scooping her up in his arms._

_A crack forms in my heart. Why only a crack? A part of me was still denying everything I was about to see._

"_I've missed you." The blurry man said._

"_I missed you, too." The sincerity in her face kills me. "I was so busy with that reception, I barely had time to breathe." _

"_Glad it's over. Did you have a hard time getting here?" I so desperately wanted to whip him like my father does to me with his stupid joking tone._

_America giggles. __**Giggles **__with him. "Seriously, Aspen, you're way too good at your job."_

_Aspen. _

_So that's his name. _

_In a corner, America sat down, surrounded by pillows._

"_Are you comfortable?" Aspen pushed a table over the girl. I zoomed in closer. From the angle of the camera, I could still see them from under the table. Though the man's face is covered by too many dark shadows, making him invisible yet again._

_I see America was sitting between his legs now when I enhanced the video quality. A plate of food was in front of them. _

_Aspen looked so comfortable with America in his arms. I used to know that feeling. _

"_Almost like home, huh?" he asked._

_She leans on him, making me sick to the stomach. "It's even better." She answered._

_His hands are running through her hair and I'm ready to scream._

_I continue listening to their conversation like it's the worst show I have ever watched._

"_What are you thinking about, Mer?"_

"_Lots of things." she sighed. "Home, you, Maxon, the Selection, everything."_

_**At least she's thinking about me.**_

"_What are you thinking about all of that?"_

"_Mostly how confused I get about them. Like how I'll think I understand what's happening to me, and then something shifts, and my feelings change."_

_Aspen asked, "Do your feelings about me change a lot?"_

_**I've been wanting to ask that question to her myself.**_

"_No!" America answers surely. "If anything, you're the one constant. I know that if everything turns upside down, you'll still be here, in the exact same place. Everything gets so crazy that my love for you" – __**If only I could break the screens I would've already**__—____"gets pushed to the background, but I know it's always there. Does that make sense?"_

"_It does. I know I make this whole thing more complicated than it already is. I'm glad to know I'm not completely out of the running though."_

_Aspen wrapped his arms around her, like he wanted to keep her all for himself._

"_I haven't forgotten us," America promised._

_With that I hit the forward button, not wanting to listen to any more of this. I watch the scene play faster, how America and Aspen chat like they were not trying to get themselves killed by breaking the law._

_I press play at a certain scene. I don't know what came into my mind that made me have to suffer watching that particular scene in normal speed._

_Their lips interlock. _

_My heart breaks into a million pieces and those very pieces are lodged up in my throat, making my breathing difficult to manage. _

_I grip on the arm rests so hard I'm surprised they haven't snapped yet._

_He lowers her on the pillows, running his fingers along her beautiful figure. He keeps on kissing my America._

_**My America.**_

_She accepts the action wholeheartedly, running her fingers through his hair._

_My eyes are locked on the screen and I don't think I've remembered how to blink. Tears prickle my eyes for the first time in a long while and my hands are too stiff to reach for my eyes to wipe the stupid water off. The tears just keep flowing and flowing and I realize how useless tears are._

_They just fall into the floor, making a mess of puddles and pools. They don't change the fact that all of this has happened. They're just water I wasted on someone who never really loved me back. Crying lets out feelings, though it doesn't make any difference in the real world. It's useless._

_Like me._

"_I never had a chance, didn't I?" I ask myself, running a hand through my messy hair._

_I should've known. From the time during our first official talk during this Selection when I asked if I had any chance with her, I should've let her go before I got myself hurt. She said it herself. She said it straight to my face that I had no chance with her. And what did I do?_

_I pushed myself on her, too weak hearted to get a broken heart._

_I hate her now. But hating her isn't a sufficient reason for my feelings to change. _

_I love her._

_And where did it get me?_

_The couple stands up and for the first time I see his face clearly. _

_Oh how good it would feel to just die right now._

_Aspen… is Officer Leger. America's provincial boyfriend._

_I put the man America was trying to forget right in front of her doorstep. _

_I let out a laugh. Then a scream. _

_How stupid I am._

_America was finally falling into my arms and yet I tempt her back into going to the man I desperately wanted to kill for hurting my girl's heart. This is my fault. I should've— I should've read about the guards we take in for the draft instead of picking them out randomly. If I did she may have forgotten him and I might finally had a chance._

_But no. I had to be so damn nice to let her supposed "childhood friend" keep her "company"._

_I'm about to vomit._

_It's my fault I lost America to him._

_It's my fault. _

_It's __**all **__my fault._

_I broke my own heart._

_I stand up, grab my chair, and throw it against the wall. The crash makes me feel relieved. I kicked the wall multiple times, hoping the impact would kill me. I jam my hands on the controls, making the video pause._

_The screen shows Aspen giving America one last kiss. _

_The creak of the opening door makes me snap my head backward. A tall man walks in, my shocked expression photocopied in his face._

_It was my father._

_My__** father.**_

_His eyes pierce into mine and I know what he was going to say before he said it._

"_That's it. I've had enough of this girl."_

_I open my mouth, but no voice makes an effort to form words for me._

_He turns away from me and he grips on the doorknob like he wants to melt it in his hands. "I'm going to have them executed____tomorrow." He says stiffly. _

_I hear a click and I grab his shoulder. He looks at me like he pities me and all I do is shake my head._

"_No." One desperate word. "No father, you __**cannot **__kill her. I—"_

_He walks away quickly, my grip on his shoulder gone. I see the disappointment in the way he shakes head but I don't care if he's disappointed in me like he always is._

_I can't let him go out that door._

_I grab his arm and wrap my own arms around it tightly. "No! Please father, you can't— you can't kill her! Please—"_

_My screams do nothing but make him angrier. He pushes me and I hit the control panel, pain surging through my spine. I bite into my lip to cease the pain. _

"_Are you blind Maxon?!" my father asks. "Can't you see that she __**doesn't **__lo—"_

"_SHUT UP!" Me kneeling as I hug his legs cut him off. He tries to kick me off but all I do is grip his tighter. "No," I keep saying. "No, no, no, __**no**__!"_

_Tears are flowing down my face to his clothes as I keep weeping and sobbing like a pathetic little child. "I can't lose her," I cry, taking every shred of dignity I had and throwing it away. "I __**can't**__."_

_My father lifts me up by the shoulders and slams me into the wall. His eyes are dead serious while mine are puffy and swollen from crying._

_He lets me go and my knees give away. I see him run a hand through his face before looking at me. "Fine." He says. "I won't execute her."_

_I brighten up like an idiot. Why was I so happy that the girl who betrayed me was going to continue living?_

"_But," my father adds, "in two conditions: 1. you will choose Kriss as your bride. 2. You have to get rid of America by tomorrow. If not, I will not hesitate killing her myself."—_

_((Forced)) END OF FLASHBACK_

The loud banging on my door slices through my thoughts. I sit up and before I even get off my bed, a guard opens the door and barges in. He doesn't wait for my acknowledgment and he gives me news I wished was a big lie.

"Prince Maxon, the rebels have attacked the school!"

o-o-o

**Me: Okay, okay, I know. You want to kill me and find out what happens next. But before you hit that b—**


	8. Chapter 8

_**Going Back To The One Chapter 8**_

**Me: None of you listened to me, didn't you? Fine, I'll do it now. Before reading, I want you all to calm down and take a deep breath. **_**Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale… Feel better now? Good.**_

**Tip: Get some tissues ready and something you can hit me on the head with. And when reading, keep your reading device (whether a laptop or a tablet or a phone) as far away as possible. **

**All I have to say now is that… I'm very sorry. I really am.**

**Now prepare to experience much worse.**

o-o-o

**America's POV**

Rebel attack.

Explosions.

Gunshots.

Alarms ringing everywhere.

I wasn't in the palace anymore but my feet still feel like they are. I'm running around in the messed up hallways, looking for safe rooms that aren't even there. The rebels attacked during our lunch break and everyone fled wherever, obvious that all of them experienced this kind of thing only now.

All I could think of was: _Northern or Southern?_

I could only wish it wasn't the Southern.

I lean on the wall to catch my breath. Teachers have to stay behind to look for any lost students and I've been running for quite a while now. And even with shoes on, walking on broken glass is not very comfortable. Why did the school have so many paintings anyway?

"Help!" A voice cried.

I turned and saw Fran. She was crying as she tried to pry a rebel's arm off her neck. The rebel's beard was tinted with blood.

"M-Ms. Sing—" With that she was pulled into an empty classroom. Without thinking, I ran inside.

The classroom looked abandoned. The chairs have been thrown into the side, leaving a big space in the middle. A scream fills my ears and I see Fran being pulled out of the classroom's back door that leads to another hallway.

"Hey, let her go!" I dash towards her.

The door I went in closes loudly behind me, the sound stopping me in my tracks. I turn back and see a dark-faced rebel walking towards me, a gun holstered in his belt.

My heart pounding in my ears, I make my way to the back door, which was slammed shut once I got there. Fran wasn't there anymore. I turned the door knob and see it locked. Locked? Why the hell is the door of a classroom locked from the_ outside_?!

I pounded on the door loudly. I look back and see the rebel over my shoulder, walking closer and closer. I think I'm about to faint.

I turn and lean on the door. The rebel pounces like a predator to its prey and I duck and run. He slams his face on the door and I try to look for anything that can be used as defense from a gun.

In complete desperation I hold a chair above my head as I hear the sound of a bullet being shot in the air. He didn't hit me though, just the ceiling. He points the gun at me and I throw the chair at him. I hear him shoot and a sharp pain is on my shoulder.

I've been shot.

The rebel's head is bleeding from the chair's impact as he lies there. My knees give away and I'm crying now.

I can't explain what I'm feeling right now.

Am I scared that I might bleed to death? Am I pained because of the bullet in my shoulder blade? Am I feeling pitiful to those guards in the palace that have to experience this much more often than I have? Am I disgusted by the sight of the waterfall of crimson that is forming a pool beneath my feet?

"You worthless piece of ****!" The rebel swore as he stood up.

I grab hold of a chair and get me on my feet, swaying before finding the right footing. My heart is pounding against my chest painfully. He pushes the chairs out of the way and I flinch as I hear each crash. His arms are directed to me and I'm cowering in a corner.

_Aspen… Dad… even Maxon for all I care! Someone… please, please help m—_

The door is kicked down and we both turn. I can't see the person who opened it, though I could hear the anger in his voice as he screamed.

"GET AWAY FROM HER!"

o-o-o

**Me: Cliffhanger! I know, you're all ready to dig up my grave but I'll make it to you guys! I promise.**

**I'm writing the next chapter right now. Just give me a few hours, or a few days whatever.**

**RnR!**

**Bye!**


	9. Chapter 9

_**Going Back To the One Chapter 9**_

**Me: Just to point it out, I don't hate Maxon. I'm just naturally good at making him suffer while I write. Not my fault. In reality, I love the naïve little prince; he's cute, thoughtful and sweet. I don't know. It's just the way I write.**

**Anyway, here's the next chapter.**

o-o-o

**America's POV**

"_GET AWAY FROM HER!"_

Sir Moods came in through the door and I swear I saw the rebel tense up in front of me.

**((A/N: All those who thought it was Maxon raise their hands! I thought it was going to be Maxon too. Haha!))**

"I-I," He stuttered, forgetting me and trying to back away from Sir Moods. "I can explain. It's just that—"

Sir Moods punches him in the face, cutting him off. As the rebel leans back he grabs him by the collar, choking him. "I hate you rebels." He pushes him and the rebel hits the wall. "Get the hell outta here!" Sir Moods yells.

The rebel flinches before scrambling to his legs and running out the door.

Wow, did he have _that _much authority over others?

A burning sensation stings on my shoulder and I groan, falling to the floor. Sir Moods catches me in his arms. I hear him click his tongue as he saw his clothes getting soaked with red liquid.

"T-Thank y—" I tried to say but he shushed me.

"Shut up for a minute." He said. "I need to get that bullet out." He sets me on the floor and I lean on the wall, breathing heavily. He wipes the bead of sweat off my forehead and he takes off his polo. I'm glad he was wearing an undershirt.

He rolls the cloth into a small bundle and he dabs it on my shoulder.

"Listen to me Ms. Singer," he ordered. "You have to take your shirt off."

My cheeks turn red and my heart beats louder. Does this man want me to lose more blood?

"No, you idiot!" he yells when he notices the warmth of my face. "I'm not— you have a bullet in your shoulder for crying out loud, your life is pretty much more important than your principles!"

I sigh and nod. "F-Fine."

He nods and bites his lip. He unbuttons my shirt and takes it off, only leaving me in my white undershirt. His eyes narrow and his eyebrows furrow. "You're wearing something under your blazer? Then why were you so worried?! No, don't answer that, just be quiet."

I remain quiet as he leans closer, examining my bullet wound. He takes a knife from his pocket and I wonder why that was there.

He pats the top of my dizzy head. "Stay still and it won't hurt so badly."

I'm shaking as he slowly points the knife toward me.

I suddenly feel tired. My vision becomes blurry, probably from blood loss, and my eyes close.

I hear a large crash and the sound of metal falling on the floor. "Huh?" I mumbled, opening my eyes. They bulge in shock as I see Sir Moods groaning on the floor with a bloody lip.

I use every bit of energy I have left to stand up. My chest is rising and falling so quickly and the way I breathe sounds like it hurts. I ask him, "A-Are you—" My knees fail me and I'm expecting to hit a cold, hard floor.

Instead, I feel two firm hands catch me.

"America!"

I freeze. My heart leaps.

That voice. I know that voice.

**((A/N: EDITED PART IS IN BOLD, SORRY! HAD TO CHANGE IT SO I COULD MAKE IT FIT THE NEXT CHAPTER))**

The owner of the voice **sits me down against the wall. The way he touches me makes me feel light.** He rubs his hand on my cheek, making me feel calm. My eyes flutter and I see two sad yet relieved brown eyes and I just want to fall into them again.

This familiarity… it terrifies me.

My voice is delicate and soft as I say his name.

"M-Maxon?"

o-o-o

**Me: I brought Maxon back! Happy now? No? Why, because it's the end of the chapter? Because of the cliffhanger?**

**Don't worry. Next chapter is in Maxon's POV! I won't spoil anything except that it has a lot of Maxerica feels.**

**When will I update? Maybe in a few days? Seriously, this will be in a few days this time because me busy with prom tonight. Hope I have fun even though I dread makeup!**

**RnR! **

**Bye-bye!**


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